


Darling, It's Better Down Where It's Wetter (Take It From Me)

by indigomini



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mythology, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Alternative Universe - Mermaids, Awkward Romance, Come Eating, Come as Lube, Comeplay, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Smut, Frottage, Intercrural Sex, M/M, Mermen, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Recreational Drug Use, Romance, Semi-Public Sex, Slow Burn, dick smelling kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-05
Updated: 2017-10-06
Packaged: 2018-12-24 12:46:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 19,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12013032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/indigomini/pseuds/indigomini
Summary: Prompt #69: Kyungsoo is a marine biologist who travels to an island for research work, and there he meets a mythical creature from the seas, a merman, named Jongin.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to my fic-fam for letting me whine and moan at them every step of the way, my S, who had to do double duty by cheerleading AND betaing, and my L, who can never be outdone. Thank you to J for being an awesome, supportive beta. I hope the tags won't scare you off. It's actually quite tame (for now).

Off the southern coast of the Korean peninsula, in the Jeju Strait halfway between Yeosusi City in the mainland and Jeju Island, is Geomundo - the access point for the legendary Baekdo islets. Listed on most world maps officially as Port Hamilton from its brief time as a British Naval base in the mid-1800s, it is a place of myth and mystery, built up with centuries of lore and an inexplicable, dense fog that shrouds the islands.

“Oy, this one looks just like your dick!” shouts Baekhyun.

Kyungsoo pinches the bridge of his nose and closes his eyes, slowly counting backward from ten as he takes in a series of deep breaths. Just as he was starting to feel homesick again, Baekhyun is there to remind him just how grateful he should be that they are in the middle of nowhere to research a topic that maybe only a dozen people in the entire world would even care about.

“ _Kyungsoo’s_ dick?” Chanyeol yells from the opposite end of the rock, his voice echoing along with rapidly approaching footsteps. “I wanna see!”

If anyone thought three scientists who have chosen to dedicate their life’s work to studying variations of _Stichopus japonicas_ would do so with aplomb and professionalism, they have clearly never met Kyungsoo’s friends. Granted, Chanyeol was never this bad before. Kyungsoo has known him since freshman year. It wasn’t until Baekhyun came along in the first year of their Ph.D. program that caused him to abandon all sense of decorum entirely. He keeps trying to sink his tendrils of nonsense into Kyungsoo too, but so far, has been unsuccessful.

“Someone enlighten me: since when did my dick grow red spines and tentacles?” Kyungsoo asks dryly, reluctantly walking over to see too. He can't help it. It's been such a slow day, his curiosity is desperate for a break.

“No, really!” Baekhyun insists, holding the sea cucumber up proudly in his gloved hands. “Look!” It looks, predictably, like an alien dick. Kyungsoo does not recall ever being anywhere near an alien dick, much less having one. Not in this universe anyway.

“I’m never drinking with you again,” Kyungsoo sighs.

“Whoa, it does!” Chanyeol adds, sounding way too impressed.

Kyungsoo closes his eyes. “ _Either_ of you.”

“Dude, we should save Kyungsoo's dick double,” Chanyeol says and walks to their stack of plastic containers to dislodge the one on top. “ _And_ -” his voice creeps up with excitement, “aaand...we should find ones that match each of us! That’d make such awesome desk decorations.”

“No–” Kyungsoo tries futilely.

“I saw one around your size about an hour ago,” Baekhyun says absently, looking down at the surface of the water. He cradles the sea cucumber to his chest and purses his lips with an annoyed expression as his casual search does not reveal anything useful. “But that fucker was too girthy.”

“Oh _man_ , I found some _thick_ ones on the other side,” Chanyeol excitedly declares, holding his fingers out like he’s cradling an imaginary football to demonstrate. “They were like pufferfish with identity crises.”

“Please… _please_ tell me that in the six hours that we’ve been roasting on this rock, that you two have actually collected samples,” Kyungsoo says.

“Well, _duh_ ,” Baekhyun answers, giving him a haughty look. “I’ve got like six of the prettiest ones I could find already labeled and ready to go.”

“That’s showing bias,” Kyungsoo groans, crumpling to the ground dramatically. “I’m tired. I’m hungry. I’m probably sunburnt. Please tell me you didn’t just compromise a whole fucking day.”

Baekhyun scoffs at him. “I bagged sixteen, okay? But I put an asterisk next to the ones I liked. I’m not an _amateur_.”

“Thank you,” Kyungsoo mumbles, words muffled by the hands covering his face. This is exhausting, dull, repetitive work, and he can only take so much of his friends’ energy before he wants to throw them off the island and watch the last of the air bubbles surface.

“Guess those kids aren’t coming back,” Chanyeol observes, sufficiently calmed down now that the dick talk is over.

Kyungsoo splays out on the rock and stares up at the cloudy sky. “I still think you had like a partial heat stroke or something,” he says.

“For real, I saw them!” Chanyeol insists.

“We’re like thirty kilometers out from Geomundo,” Baekhyun chimes in as he stacks up his containers next to Kyungsoo’s. It’ll be another half hour before the boat arrives to bring them back for the day. “If they swam here, they probably drowned or something.”

“That’s morbid,” Chanyeol says grimly as he helps.

“There _fore_ ,” Baekhyun adds, “you probably didn’t see anybody.”

Probably. Maybe they just had a mutual hallucination. Kyungsoo has been keeping silent about his own experience, but Chanyeol has been going on about it nonstop, and it matches too eerily with what Kyungsoo saw. But it just doesn’t make sense. And if even _Baekhyun_ says it doesn’t make sense, then it’s definitely impossible.

“Where’s the turbidimeter?” Chanyeol asks with a pout in his voice, changing the subject.

“ _You_ had it last,” Kyungsoo reminds him, lacing his fingers together across his stomach as he tries to zen out for their remaining time on here.

“I set it right over here,” Chanyeol says, pointing at the edge of the rock. He turns in a circle, scanning the tiny islet they are on. “I haven’t moved it.”

“Did you kick it into the water again?” Baekhyun asks.

“I didn’t kick it in the first place!” Chanyeol insists. “I _told_ you, it was those kids!”

That sets off another pointless argument, and Kyungsoo tunes them out as he stares at the bright red of the back of his eyelids. The warmth of the sun is pleasant now that he’s not hunched over, checking nets for sea cucumbers. His mind drifts back to their inn as his stomach rumbles. The owner has been gracious enough to keep them fed on this trip, and he’s been daydreaming about her delicious spicy hairtail stew all day.

“Boat’s here,” a voice says, followed by a hand shaking his shoulder gently. Kyungsoo blinks his eyes open and grimaces at the bright sun as he rouses. Chanyeol offers a hand for him to pull himself up to his feet. He’s still groggy, but he hurriedly helps load the day’s collections into the boat and flops against Baekhyun once they’re all settled in.

“Did you find the turbidimeter?” Kyungsoo slurs out.

Chanyeol sighs. “No,” he says. “But it floats and it’s waterproof and has the school’s info on there as well as our contact, so...um…”

“Yeah, so if someone calls us from Japan in like two weeks, saying, ‘Ahh, _konnichiwa_ , I found a ₩800,000 HACH floating around on our beach,’ you need to be ready to give instructions on how to ship it back.” Baekhyun adds.

“It’d be in yen,” Kyungsoo corrects sleepily. His stomach is growling in earnest now. “Not won.”

“But would we have to pay customs?” Chanyeol asks with a frown.

—

Geomundo is split into three islands, connected by bridges in a sort of clockwise spiral: Dongdo, Seodo, and Godo. He’s made a mental note to trek out to Dongdo and Seodo before the trip is over, but sunsets on the center island Godo are beyond breathtaking. His phone's storage capacity is being tested to the max, as Kyungsoo tries to immortalize each new day’s beauty on camera. Camellia trees blanket these islands, and the deep pink flowers are in full bloom right now. Kyungsoo’s family prefers international vacations instead of sightseeing the more scenic offerings in Korea, but as he watches the rainbow of colors play across the sky, as the sweet, fresh perfume of camellia fills his nostrils, Kyungsoo concludes he would gladly suffer the two hour ferry ride and spotty wifi if it meant he could have this view, this atmosphere, regularly. He’s not even interested in the tourist hotspots. Just _being_ here is therapeutic. It’s hard to worry about things like statistical significance or publishing or graduating or _finding gainful employment_ when such simple majesty exists.

And the food. The food hurts his heart at the thought of having to leave and not have it again.

“I swear, those _asshole kids_ , arrrgh!” growls Baekhyun, shaking Kyungsoo out of his reverie.

“What happened?” he asks. Just this morning, he had learned about the Silver Ocean Festival, and has spent all day fantasizing about sampling all of the food.

Baekhyun sneers as he sifts through their inventory again. He’s grinding his teeth. “I think they made off with my bag.”

Today, they’re on the boat only. The larger stone islets are simply not accessible, so their only option is to dock their little rental next to one as they cast out nets and move quickly. Boredom led to too much conversation for Kyungsoo’s tastes, but it eventually segued into singing, and that’s something he doesn’t mind. But as Kyungsoo crooned on about lost loves and lonely nights, two heads popped out of the water, startling them so much, Chanyeol almost fell off the other side.

So it seems the two kids they saw a week ago are real. They keep calling them kids, but from what Kyungsoo could surmise before the two snickered and swam away, they must have been around his age or a little younger. It was quite shocking, given that there were no other boats out right now, but Chanyeol explained that if Jeju Island could have their haenyeo, the diving “mermaid” matriarchs who collected abalone, sea urchins, octopi, seaweed and shellfish to support their families when the men could not, then it’s totally reasonable that there could be similar people here. It is close enough. And these people are islanders. Why wouldn’t they be able to swim?

 _That’s still ten nautical miles though_ , Kyungsoo mulls over internally. Something just doesn’t sit right in his mind about them. He had locked eyes with one of the boys for only a few seconds, and it’s very possible he is hallucinating yet again, but Kyungsoo could almost swear he saw fangs in place of teeth, and a glittery silver sheen to their skin.

_Vampires._

Being undead would explain how they could get here without boat, without _breathing_. But sparkly Twilight vampires though? He shivers and tries his best to shrug off his nerves as Baekhyun calls out the weight of some new samples.

“I _told_ you guys, I bet they stole the turbidimeter last time too,” Chanyeol announces. He's still sore over their missing equipment ever since the first day they spotted those boys.

“Why would they need to know suspended particulate measurements?” Baekhyun asks sarcastically. “It makes no sense. You knocked it over the rock, and it’s floated to Japan.”

“Why does _that_ make more sense than some punk kids stole our machine?”

“Why would anyone swim out far as fuck after us to steal equipment that they don’t know how to use?”

Chanyeol throws his hands up, “Because they’re punk kids! That’s why! They’re not wanting it for some nefarious Dr. Evil bullshit, they’re wanting it because they’re asshole kids!”

There’s a loud splash before their boat tilts from a weight shift. A male voice shouts, “Who you calling ‘asshole kids’, dry boy? Why don't you come say that to my fa—” Kyungsoo had been facing that direction first, and only barely catches sight of messy wet hair and an indignant expression before one of the boys from earlier is pulled by another set of hands back into the water. Loud cackles, like seal laughs, fill the air a moment later as they vanish. He scans the water for them to resurface, so he can pinpoint further, but gets nowhere.

“Did that asshole really call me a _dry boy_?” Chanyeol asks later, shrill with disbelief.

—

They’re fucked. They’re royally fucked, with not even spit for lube. All of their paperwork from Dadohaehaesang National Park, Seoul University, the conservation society’s protocol documentation, and the township authorization permits allowing them to go out to Baekdo by themselves daily to collect samples were in Baekhyun’s backpack. Baekhyun’s backpack that those kids made off with. They are so fucked.

Sure, there were some things of value in the backpack, but what they _desperately need_ is their paperwork to do anything around the heavily protected Baekdo islets. He’s so annoyed, he’s seething and walking off by himself to cool down. In the distance, Kyungsoo can see lanterns being set up in preparation for the Silver Ocean festival, and he can’t even bring himself to go investigate right now. He’s so upset, there’s no way he can enjoy the food properly. It will be impossible to get all of the permits replaced with enough time to collect all the samples they would need, and they’ve already gone over their funding. This is a disaster.

As the sun starts to set, Kyungsoo makes his way to the dock and dips his feet into the cool water. It is soothing between his toes, helping to seep away his frustrations.

Something grips his ankle firmly and pulls. Not enough to yank him into the water, but rather, as Kyungsoo shrieks and kicks and connects with something hard, sending it splashing back into the East Sea, he realizes someone was trying to use him to lift up onto the dock.

“Holy shit, oh Jesus!” he yells, scrambling onto his knees and cautiously peering over the side of the old wood.

A figure emerges from the dark waters, gripping onto one of the posts. “Ow!” the boy snaps, rubbing at his jaw. “You _kicked_ me!”

“You _scared_ me!” he counters. It registers a few seconds later, once the fear has started to taper off. This is one of the boys. His heart swells with hope. “ _You!_ ”

“That sure doesn’t sound like ‘I’m sorry’!”

“You stole my friend’s backpack!” Kyungsoo declares, scooting a little closer and flattening himself against the wood in case the boy tries to pull him over. “I need it back!”

The boy vanishes under the water, and Kyungsoo roars in frustration, jumping to his feet to find something to throw in after him. “Asshole!” he screams, clutching his sandal and only barely resisting sending it into the water, shaking it angrily around his head instead. He flails incoherently, trying whatever comes to mind to taunt the boy back to surface. “You _asshole_! You—you _dry boy_!"

Minutes go by. Eventually, his anger deflates into a low boil with no stimulus to stoke it, and Kyungsoo sulkily heads back toward the inn before it gets too dark. Maybe he can report them to the authorities, and they’ll be able to sniff out the thieves. How many people could there be on the island anyway? He didn’t want it to come to that, but they _need_ their paperwork.

In the room, he finds Baekhyun on his laptop, eyes hyperfocused on the screen, and Chanyeol reclining on Kyungsoo’s bed, on his phone. The door has barely swung shut when Baekhyun announces robotically, “Searching for replacements, don’t bother me.”

Chanyeol pats the spot next to him on the bed and, after a long sigh, Kyungsoo joins him. Baekhyun has two modes: carefree pixie and research robot. There is never an in-between.

He clears his throat quietly. “I saw one—”

“Shh,” Baekhyun hisses, eyes never straying.

“Check it out,” Chanyeol whispers, his knee bumping against Kyungsoo’s as he tilts his phone screen so they can both see. On it is a hexagon with a line coming out of the left side, and an X crossing through the whole shape.

“I’ve seen that,” Kyungsoo answers, careful to keep his voice low.

“It’s all over the island,” Chanyeol leans closer to explain. “I tried to ask someone what it meant, and this woman just said ‘legends.’ I don’t get it, but they’re putting it like all over everything. Like merch.”

“For the Silver Ocean festival?”

“Yeah. I’m trying to see what it means. Some local tradition thing.”

That reminds him. “I saw one of the boys who took the backpack.”

“Where?” Baekhyun yells, already on his feet, eyes wild. “I will _shred_ those motherfuckers!”

“I kicked him in the jaw, and he jumped back into the water,” Kyungsoo explains, scowling at the memory.

“Holy shit, dude!” Chanyeol says. “I mean, I’m not happy they took our shit, but you hit him?”

“It was an accident!” he explains. “He grabbed my leg, and it shocked me, and—”

“Where?” Baekhyun repeats, crossing the room and shaking Kyungsoo’s shoulders. “We gotta find them!”

“That was like half an hour ago, and it’s dark now. He’s long gone.”

Baekhyun lets him go and crumples against him, knocking them both onto the bed as he whines. “This isn’t _fair_.”

“We’ll try to find them tomorrow,” Kyungsoo assures him, counting his pats to Baekhyun’s back before pushing him off so Baekhyun can latch onto Chanyeol instead. “Worst case scenario: we lose one day to get our paperwork back. It should be fine.”

“That’s not the _worst_ case scenario,” Baekhyun grumbles against Chanyeol’s side.

Ever the optimist, Chanyeol squeezes him and nods, “It’ll be okay. Everyone will be out for the festival tomorrow. We’ll find them for sure.”

—

Early morning brings the dense fog that the islands are known for. The mystery fog that wiped out the British navy, that kept the land to its people even as the Japanese Empire declared it was theirs. It’s eerie, and as Kyungsoo walks back to the dock in the dim light, he wonders if maybe it’s dangerous to breathe in, like some sort of toxic cloud that the locals know to avoid. And here he is, sucking it down as he hums a tune.

He could barely sleep, tossing and turning on the single bed all night while Chanyeol and Baekhyun snored and sleep-talked in the other. The boy. Every encounter, he had only gotten the briefest of glimpses, and he needs to recall the boy’s details to find him today.

He had that distinctive, heavy, local accent, so clearly he’s from around here, and isn’t just some kleptomaniac tourist. He has longer hair, tied back into a tiny ponytail, sun-bleached to a muddy brown. And he glittered.

Why would he glitter… Surely, it’s not glitter. It’s probably from his sunscreen or the water reflecting off his tanned skin or something. His voice is deeper, not as deep as Kyungsoo’s, but not a child’s. A man, definitely.

Flashbacks of fangs and claws, elongated and made more menacing in the early morning fog. Kyungsoo shivers.

His nervous humming turns into low words as he reaches the bridge of the song stuck in his head, and Kyungsoo croons to a little frog as he follows it along the wooden planks. The fishermen have already left before sunrise. He can see them off in the distance.

He misses the splash minutes later, and his heart nearly flies into his throat as fingers grip the edge of the dock and a familiar face reappears. Kyungsoo is too busy choking on his spit and coughing to scream as the man gives him an amused look.

“Give me back the backpack, asshole,” Kyungsoo wheezes out, coughing into his fist again.

“You landers are so rude,” he answers, smirk playing on his lips. “Do you not bow?” But he’s not swimming away though, and Kyungsoo takes the time to memorize his features a little better. For later identification. No, he’s definitely sparkly.

“Is that supposed to be an insult?” Kyungsoo retorts. “Mainlanders is an insult now? That’s lame.”

The man laughs at him like a seal barking. His eyes nearly disappear into crescents as he throws his head back. Kyungsoo repeats his demand.

“Why should I? It’s mine.”

Curiosity overrides his priorities. “Are you a vampire?” Kyungsoo blurts out. Met with a blank look, he sputters and continues. “Do you know who like...Edward Cullen is?”

The man cants his head to the side, dropping his forearms to the dock and laying his head over them. It’d be easier to climb out, but Kyungsoo supposes he’s suspicious of getting caught. “What? An American?” the man asks. “I don’t like Americans. They're rude.”

“No, a vamp—” This discussion is ridiculous. “It doesn’t matter. You stole our backpack. Give it back. I need it.”

“I did not steal,” the man says, straightening back up and frowning at the accusation. “That was a tribute.”

“It was most certainly _not_ ,” Kyungsoo argues, shaking his head in frustration. “Look, you can even keep the backpack. I don’t care. We just need the paperwork inside. It’s really important.”

The sun comes out some more, breaking up the fog, and hits the man's features at just the right angle, making it look like he rolled around in the highlighter section of a cosmetics shop. Kyungsoo has to squint to look at him.

“Why?”

Why? He’s tempted to threaten, but he can’t risk him just swimming away again. “Look, can you just come up here so we can talk? I’m not gonna hurt you.”

“You kicked me yesterday.”

“That was an _accident_!” Kyungsoo snaps. “You grabbed my leg and scared the daylights out of me.”

The man pouts sulkily at him, “Still doesn't sound like an apology.”

A growl of frustration starts in his throat before he tamps it down. “Just—okay, I'm sorry. Alright? I’m sorry I kicked you in the face. Will you just come out of the water, so we can talk?”

“Not yet.” The impish smile is back, the man placated somewhat now that Kyungsoo has apologized. The little shit. “Soon though. Maybe tonight.”

Nothing more comes, even as Kyungsoo stares expectantly. “...Why not?”

“You want the paper?” the man asks, crossing his forearms in front of him again.

“Yes.” _Please._

“Sing for me.”

What level of bribery… “What?”

“If I like it, I will gift you the paper.”

The _gall_ of this brat. To steal their things and then make them sing and dance to get them back? He’s totally going to the police after this. “Can I just give you some money…”

“What do I need money for?” The man laughs again, too amused with himself.

“Why do you want me to sing for you?”

“You landers ask so many silly questions.” He hauls himself up a little more to rest his chin on his hands again. “Does it matter why? If you entertain me, I might gift you back your paper.”

Vibrating with indignance, Kyungsoo pulls long, slow breaths to force himself to calm down. What's most important is to get their paperwork back. And then he can go to the cops. And press charges against this rude, pompous asshole. The thought brings some satisfaction, a salve over his ego. “What should I sing?”

“That song you sang when you were on my rock.”

“You–” He stops himself from asking. Of course this narcissist would lay claim over unclaimable things. Kyungsoo closes his eyes, discreetly rolling them as he ducks his head down to prepare. Another deep inhale, and he sings. Quietly at first, and as his eyes open, he grows louder, more confident, watching the man watch him in fascination.

Unwittingly, he maintains eye contact for the duration of the song, not realizing it until he has to blink in the silence, finding the man still staring back. Kyungsoo clears his throat. “So, my papers.”

The man drops back into the water.

“Fuck!” He should have _known_ not to trust this asshole. “You piece of shit!” Kyungsoo continues swearing, cursing the man with every vulgar term that springs to mind while angrily kicking at the air at the edge of the dock.

Something clicks off to the side, and he spins to see the man up to his waist in the water, somehow floating effortlessly without treading with his arms. He was clicking his tongue at Kyungsoo. “Rude landers,” he repeats, shaking his head as if disappointed. “So rude.”

“We had a deal!”

“Tell me your name.”

This pompous asshole with his utter lack of manners and his thievery. The nerve. “No.”

“I am Jongin.”

“Congratulations,” Kyungsoo snarls out.

“Most landers don't get to know that,” Jongin says, stretching his arms out and back lazily. “And the ones that do don't get to call me that either. Show some appreciation.”

“I'll be appreciative when you give me my paperwork back.”

“Well, I'm not giving your papers back to you without knowing your name.” He pauses briefly. “It's important.”

Kyungsoo knows his schtick. He'll go from one demand right onto the other. A scam artist. And worse, he has no option other than to play along. 'I've got you now though, asshole,’ he thinks to himself. 'I've got your name.’

Water lands on his chest, soaking into his shirt, and Kyungsoo glares down at the perpetrator. “Hey!”

“Name, lander.”

Pompous asshole. “Kyungsoo,” he relents.

Something wet lands by his feet with a squelch. Kyungsoo looks down at what the brat just threw at him, and finds a dark green mass, like seaweed. “This isn't paperwork.”

A snort followed by some braying. This guy has the weirdest laughs. “Eat it.”

What? “No way. That's not our deal. Give me my paperwork.”

Jongin splashes him again, “Hurry up.” He actually has the nerve to sound impatient.

Toeing the green blob, Kyungsoo grimaces at it as the tip of his shoe just sinks in. “Ew. No.”

A long sigh. “Do you want your paper or not?”

“Why do I have to do this?” he asks. “Why can't you just give it to me? Why do I have to eat this?”

Another splash, this time catching Kyungsoo on the cheek, and he wipes at it angrily while glaring at the man still somehow hovering in the water. Maybe he's standing on something.

“Come on, lander. Don't be such a guppy.”

“A what?”

This time, it's Jongin who takes a splash to the face, as Kyungsoo manages to kick a small wave at him. Instead of getting upset though, he laughs, a loud, hysterical peal.

“You just need to take one bite. Hurry up.”

“ _Why_ though?” he insists. He’s all for trying to be accommodating to ridiculous demands if it means they can get their paperwork back, but that doesn’t extend to degrading himself and eating random, suspect plants. “What does it do? Is it going to make me sick? I just want my paperwork back.”

“It’s not going to hurt you,” Jongin promises, following up with a bright grin.

He tries for another minute to argue, getting nowhere. Disgusted, he pokes at the wet clump next to him. It looks like seaweed, but made of fine threads instead of broad fronds. As best as it _could_ , it looked clean. Small comfort, at least. He pinches at the top, where his toe might not have touched, and pulls up a few strands, twirling them around his fingertips to form a small ball. Cautiously, he brings it to his lips, closing his eyes in a wince and hoping he won’t gag it right back out and have to do it all over again, Kyungsoo chews, tasting the salty ocean water on the rubbery texture. It’s just seaweed. Not bad seaweed, not good seaweed. He crushes it down a little more before swallowing, frowning as it leaves a strange, slick trail down his throat. Well, that was gross.

“There,” he proclaims. “Done. Now give me.”

Jongin sinks below the surface again, and just as Kyungsoo is about to stand back on the dock and curse his family for ever bringing him into existence, hands spring out of the water, grip onto his ankles, and yank him into the sea.

The cold shocks him first, and he shouts in panic, his voice warbled into sound bubbles as he kicks. The hands on his ankles release him before catching on his waist, keeping him from being able to kick for the surface. His lungs are burning, already depleted from his initial cry and unable to refill. The water is turbid around him, making it impossible to see anything, to even tell which way is up. His heart races, pulsing in his eardrums, and Kyungsoo is going to die, he’s going to _die_ because of some bastard, and he has no idea why.

He hiccups in water reflexively as his brain screams for oxygen, and expects to choke, to cough, but somehow…doesn’t. His mouth hanging open, he tries again, slower this time. Inhale, feel the rush of water against his tongue. Exhale.

He is not drowning.

Or maybe he's drowning, and this is what his mind has created, to protect him in the end. Maybe he's dying.

The bubbles clear away as his body relaxes, and Jongin's smug face slowly comes into view.

If he's dead, he doesn't deserve to have to deal with this asshole anymore. Kyungsoo brings a hand to the man's face and pushes at it, his movements sluggish in the water.

The other man nips playfully at his fingers instead, catching them with his teeth. His canines are elongated, sharp, but do not pierce the skin..

_Vampire._

The thought stirs some alarm, and he jerks back as best as he can, looking around to reorient himself.

The sight boggles his mind so much, he doesn't quite understand it at first.

More importantly, his captor…

Maybe he has died. He must have. Or he’s dying, and he’s hallucinating. Because he's having some sort of split vision.

Jongin lets go of his waist and does a quick spiral in the water, using what most definitely look almost like a silvery dolphin’s tail— _flukes_ , he recalls numbly—to propel himself around with a flourish. There’s a dorsal fin behind him as well. From the navel upward, he looks totally human, but...but _fins_ …

“What...the...fuck…” Kyungsoo garbles out, his voice surprising him, coming out clearer than he expected, although still muffled by the water.

“Come on then,” Jongin says, as if nothing was out of the ordinary. _His_ voice is much clearer. He swims a quick loop around Kyungsoo and extends a hand. “Let’s go.”

No explanation. No “Ta-da! Gotcha!” Just...a hand. Dumbstruck, Kyungsoo takes it, and lets himself be pulled along, watching everything go by in a sort of dreamy, surreal state. There’s no way this is happening. There’s _no_ way this is happening.

It’s been several minutes, and the novelty of a near-death hallucination has worn off enough for Kyungsoo to recover and take in his surroundings again. They must be in deeper water. It is dim here.

Jongin slows down, his flipper only swishing every few seconds now instead of constantly, so they can coast to a stop. He lets Kyungsoo drift to the floor, his flip flops disturbing the sand as he lands.

They must be on some kind of shelf. The pressure is noticeably different, but not to the point that he's uncomfortable. But then, he's also breathing water right now, so perhaps Kyungsoo's body is not a good gauge for science currently. Before them is a wall of sorts, covered in sand and sheets of rock, and Jongin leads them forward to a hole partially obscured by a curtain of seaweed, and pulls them inside.

It's a small cave, he supposes. A grotto? Not wide enough for two people to stand with their arms outstretched without touching the walls and each other, and circular in shape. It seems brighter in here than outside.

And it's covered, nearly floor to ceiling, with random trinkets, no doubt all stolen from unwitting tourists such as himself.

“I don't know which one it is,” Jongin says, swimming over to a large pile of backpacks.

Kyungsoo doesn't follow him, because Kyungsoo is too busy staring at a familiar HACH turbidimeter box, being weighed down by a large rock to keep from floating to the surface.

So Chanyeol was right. Whoops.

“This is mine too,” he states, pointing at the box.

“Is this place yours too, lander?” Jongin asks sarcastically, turning to face him.

His finger jabs angrily at the box. “You _know_ this is mine! You took it when we were on the rock!”

“ _My_ rock,” Jongin corrects, idly picking up backpacks and letting them sink back down. “You were on my rock during my time. I graciously accepted your offering.”

Kyungsoo is in the middle of launching into an argument, but is interrupted as the boy who called Chanyeol a “dry boy" the other day comes swimming in, holding something in his hands and speaking excitedly. Also with fins. Because of course. He doesn't even notice Kyungsoo until he's nearly to Jongin. Still, he only grants him the mildest of a shocked look before he turns back.

“Look, I found another one!” he shouts, and Kyungsoo can see now that in his hand is a small, bloated looking fish.

Jongin is cooing over it as well, hands reaching out to grasp it delicately.

Only now does Kyungsoo recognize it, and rushes forth with alarm. “Wait, don't touch that!” he yells. “That's a pufferfish, they're toxic!”

He gets a pair of giggles for his warning, and Jongin smirks at him before shaking his head. “Landers are so funny, Sehun,” he remarks.

Landers. Well, now that makes sense a little bit, he supposes. And...and dry boy too.

Hilarious. (Not.)

He watches in annoyed silence as they roll the fish around in their hands, pointing at certain areas and arguing quietly with each other before finally, Jongin brings it to his lips, and takes a careful bite, short fangs sinking in enough to puncture, but not to rip away the meat.

And then he hands it to Sehun to do the same. They pass it back and forth a few times before the giggling starts anew, and then turn, almost in unison, to offer it to Kyungsoo.

“...No, I like living, thanks,” he answers, watching the small, chewed up carcass sink to the floor.

Jongin floats over to him slowly, eyes unfocused and a lazy grin on his lips. He’s sideways, and from this angle, Kyungsoo can see the faint bruise still on the side of his jaw. From his kick. “Keeeey-yung- _soooo_ ,” he sings out, snickering to himself as he tugs at the sleeve of Kyungsoo’s t-shirt, “why do you look so funny?”

“How do I look funny?” It still hasn’t quite hit him yet. Too many crazy things from too many different sides. He’s breathing underwater. There’s a...mer...man… _two_ mer...men? Who glitter. In some secret underwater cave full of purloined goods. With a toxic fish. Mocking Kyungsoo’s appearance. He’s pretty sure he's not even reality-adjacent right now.

“You look like such a small lander, but you sound like such a big lander,” Jongin barely gets out before devolving into another round of cackles.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Kyungsoo vaguely recalls a dolphin documentary making headlines for discovering that the aquatic mammals would intentionally subject themselves to pufferfish toxin. Oh god, these two are high. “Are you high?” he hears himself asking anyway. Add that to the list of insane things going on, because why not.

Jongin is in the middle of making fun of his deeper voice when the other one—Sehun—reaches below Jongin’s navel, and dips in, revealing a vertical slit in the skin there. His fingers stroke gently as Jongin continues to poke at the fabric of Kyungsoo’s shirt, unperturbed as he now gives Kyungsoo a backhanded compliment on his singing.

“It’s so nice. We were both so surprised,” the merman muses, as something starts to protrude under Sehun’s touch. The possibilities for what it could be are scant, but after a few seconds of watching it grow, Kyungsoo can reasonably conclude that Jongin is not giving birth right now.

“ _You_ were surprised,” Sehun mumbles, wrapping his webbed fingers around the growing...thing, before flipping himself upward, to be parallel with Jongin, unbothered, or perhaps spurred on by Kyungsoo's presence, and—

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Kyungsoo shouts, too scandalized to be afraid. It feels like he's being jumpstarted back into his senses. He pushes at them, shaking his head furiously and turning toward the backpacks to sift through them. What did Baekhyun’s bag even look like?

Jongin eventually makes his way over to him, picking bags up and tossing them his way for inspection. He is still wearing that amused grin, glossy eyes twinkling. “What's wrong, Kyungsoo?” he sing-songs.

“Don't-” he starts, eyes accidentally straying past Jongin's stomach as the other man makes a tight revolution around him, “don't point that at me. I'm getting my bag and my box, and you're taking me back. Then you two can do whatever the heck you want in private.”

Sehun, not one to waste time, is back by Jongin's side, trying to line their lower halves up again, only to be shooed away as Jongin snags the next bag Kyungsoo picks up.

It turns into a tug-of-war, and although Kyungsoo has his feet dug into the loose sand, he loses the fight, tumbling forward until a victorious Jongin catches and rights him back up, laughing again.

“Do you not have one?” Jongin asks, his voice slurring a little, eyelids heavy as he scoots closer to attempt an investigation of the zipper of Kyungsoo's jeans, pouting when his hands get smacked away. His hand strays back downward, over his own body and out of Kyungsoo's view. “It feels _good_. Is that why you are so loud and angry all the time? You landers are missing out.”

“ _I'm_ missing out,” Sehun huffs from somewhere behind them.

“I-” says Kyungsoo pointedly, gesturing to himself, “I, me, _I_...am missing out on a day collecting samples for my project.” He grabs a familiar looking bag and yanks it open, barely refraining from yelping for joy at the sight of a waterproof bag of documents within. It takes three bounces to clear the small floor and retrieve the box, letting the rock anchoring it slide to the ground. It's nearly weightless in the water, and he gathers both the bag and the box in one hand and holds the other out. “So take me back, thank you.”

“Why did you bring the dry boy here?” Out of reflex Kyungsoo turns to the sulky voice, getting an eyeful of merman dick again, and snapping his gaze upward instead.

“I didn't know which bag had the paper he wanted,” Jongin answers, and it only just now occurs to him that they've all been speaking in Korean this whole time. Not some weird, mythical language, not clicks and squeals. Just regular, old-fashioned, kind of accented, Korean. That's how he knows he's gone bonkers.

Sehun sighs and swims around to the other side, letting himself sink to the floor. “It's gonna wear off soon,” he whines.

No answer from the other merman, who simply grabs Kyungsoo's hand and tugs him back out the entrance without another word. At least the trip back, Kyungsoo can look around, take in the...scenery. It's a sea floor, alright. Spectacular, but boring. A few times, he spies some of the very sea cucumbers he is currently researching, chugging along with their lives, oblivious and indifferent. It takes a while, with Jongin changing direction and randomly slowing down, as if he'd forgotten where he was supposed to be going, and giggling at his mistakes.

“You're stoned out of your damn mind, aren't you?” he asks, interrupting Jongin's near-constant stream of ramblings about silly things he's seen landers do.

“That's a strange expression,” replies the merman. His words are clearing up though. Perhaps the effects of the toxin are fading. It hasn't improved his sense of direction yet, but it's easier for Kyungsoo to understand him now.

“It's not.”

Jongin snorts and slows them to a stop. Before them are wooden posts. The docks, presumably. He smirks. “So, get the paper you wanted.”

Oh no, he doesn't. Kyungsoo holds up the box and the bag. “ _Both_ of these are mine. They weren't….tribute or whatever. They belong to me and my friends, and we _need_ them, and you can't just take things.*

“I can,” Jongin states, beaming proudly, “I did. So choose.”

It's not like he has leverage here, Kyungsoo is just now realizing. He can't exactly go to the police anymore and explain that a half-man, half-dolphinesque thing, has stolen dozens or even hundreds of things and is hoarding them several miles off shore. But so far, Jongin has been giving off more obnoxious stoner vibes than serial killer vibes, despite his teeth. Plus, their equipment is expensive, and being so close to the finish line, he can't give up now. “No,” he says, putting some steel into the word. “These are mine, and I'm taking them with me.”

Jongin grins. Not the reaction he was expecting, and it's a little disturbing, but he merely grins as he reaches out and pokes at the plastic box, making no attempt to steal it back. “This is two more than we agreed upon,” he states, sounding suddenly professional, regally diplomatic almost. “That is hardly fair.”

He leans forward in disbelief, “You _stole_ this, and you're accusing _me_ of unfairness?” Just as Jongin shoots him another smirk and opens his mouth to no doubt offer some other bratty commentary, Kyungsoo cuts him off. “No– _no_! You! You tricked me, and you brought me to your dungeon thing where you and your boyfriend got _high_ and tried to fish fuck right in front of me. No, you want to talk payment? Is that it? Well, this is _my_ payment for emotional damage. I get my shit back. Thank you.”

And then he makes for a dramatic storm off of kicking for the surface himself, expecting to be yanked back down so the asshole can get his last word in. He almost looks back down when it doesn't happen. But then Kyungsoo breaks the surface, unbothered, and his head dips back under, and suddenly the spell is broken, and he's sputtering and coughing up water, and the new set of problems takes priority as he tries to hold onto everything.

It's hard to climb onto the dock. It's harder with drenched clothing and lugging heavy objects that don't want to participate in the rules of gravity outside of water. But eventually, Kyungsoo makes it, flattening himself against the wood as the midday sun beats down on his back.  
A splash, and a familiar set of hands appear on the edge of the plank before him, soon followed by a familiar set of eyes.

“First,” Jongin announces haughtily, “don't call me a fish. Ever.” There's a heavy pout on his lips as he glares at Kyungsoo, but the look fades back into a mischievous smirk in an instant. “Second, after careful consideration, I allow you to have these, but in exchange, you owe me another song.”

He doesn't even get a chance to tell the merman to fuck off back to fantasy land before Jongin drops away again. Bastard.

 


	2. Chapter 2

“Too hot! <i>Hot damn</i>. Make a dragon wanna retire, man!” Baekhyun somehow manages to hoot out as he tackles Kyungsoo and kisses his face relentlessly.

“Let me go, Bruno!” Kyungsoo tries to push him away, but only succeeds in taking an errant knee to the balls as Baekhyun latches on even tighter. It's not until he's gone fetal from the dull ache that Baekhyun lets up, ending with one last, obnoxious smooch right on his lips.

In his corner, Chanyeol shrieks out the next lines to Uptown Funk as he dances around, holding the turbidimeter box above him like a boombox. He's joined by Baekhyun mere seconds later, and the two try their best to twerk against each other, Chanyeol's non-existent ass wiggling erratically, high above Baekhyun's.

“Where did you find it?” Chanyeol asks breathlessly, clutching the box like it was his firstborn.

His chest hurts. Not _badly_ , but it feels like his lungs are sore. In...a less dramatic way than it sounds. Maybe because of the...the gillyweed or whatever the fuck it was that he ate. That wore off seemingly the moment he surfaced for air. The asshole could have mentioned that.

“Japan,” he deadpans, rubbing his thighs as the pain slowly ebbs away.

“This is awesome,” Baekhyun repeats. “This is so awesome. You are so awesome. _We_ are so awesome. We need to celebrate.”

Chanyeol claps loudly. “Let's go to the festival! Kyungsoo's been dying to go.”

“I don't feel like it,” Kyungsoo says, splaying out over the sheets. “I'm tired. Y'all go.”

Really, he was exhausted. He still hasn't decided if this whole morning had been some acid trip. Their stuff is back, but the series of events that made that happen seem more impossible the more he tries to recall it.

The air is whooshed out of his lungs in an instant as Baekhyun grinds his bony butt over Kyungsoo's upper back. “They're gonna do some sort of celebration to open up the festival! C'mon, Soo, you love that shit. Let's go see!”

“I'll buy you dinner!” Chanyeol offers.

His friends don't take no for an answer, with Chanyeol eventually laying out over Kyungsoo's lower half as well, until Kyungsoo is wheezing for breath and rasping that he'll go. Some friends. (His _best_ friends.)

 

“Why is it called the Silver Ocean festival, I wonder?” Baekhyun asks, an arm looped with Kyungsoo's as they strut down to the beach on Seodo.

Briefly, his mind flashes back to glittery silver skin. And sharp fangs. Can't forget the sharp fangs. Getting high off puffer fish.

“It's because the fog around here, I think,” Chanyeol says, scrolling through his phone. “It makes the ocean look silver...maybe?”

After exploring the food stalls and trying out as much as they could physically stuff into their bellies, the trio waddle in a food coma toward the water, where a group of ships are circling each other. On board, men in traditional black and white garbs were singing, beating drums. The _Geomundo baennorae_ , one of the locals explains as they watch.

There is so much going on. In shallow pools dug out of the sand and lined with plastic, there are people of all ages wading, catching fish with their bare hands and tossing them ashore excitedly. The scent of sizzling meat and fragrant spices fills the air, mingling with the salt of the sea.

Kyungsoo is in love.

“My hero,” Baekhyun croons again, hanging off of Kyungsoo's neck as they walk along the beach, watching the sunset as they munch on fish balls on a stick.

Kyungsoo is pushing the loud face away from his when someone wraps a hand around his own, twisting it so the bamboo skewer he's holding is pointed back, and then a too-familiar face appears, bruised but razor sharp jawline leaning forth, lips cleanly popping off the top meatball.

“ _The fuck_ ,” Kyungsoo hisses, spinning around quickly. Shocked into silence, he eventually recovers from just staring slackjawed and scans the intruder from head to toe.

Toe. Because he's got them. Ten of them. Attached to feet, attached to calves, attached to thighs.

Jongin spits the fish ball out onto the sand with a hollow pop and makes a disgusted face. “Ew,” he says, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, “you landers and your need to ruin fish.”

He's got some sort of body glitter on – gold, instead of the bright silver – and dressed in a white t-shirt, black shorts. Around his neck is a Mother of Pearl pendant, cut into the shape of the symbol that is all over the festival. And he's barefoot otherwise.

 _Feet_.

So Kyungsoo really did lose his damn mind this morning and hallucinate the whole thing. He really magicked up a merman. And an underwater adventure to a cave of mystery. And a weird dick.

“What else you got?” Definitely-Two-Legged asks, eyes curious and a tongue peeking out between his lips, a corner still glossy from the grease of the fish ball.

“The _fuck_ are your legs from?” Kyungsoo blurts out instead, unable to keep his gaze away from them.

“Kyungsoo!” Chanyeol says, sounding scandalized as he shoves Kyungsoo's shoulder weakly.

“Oh geez, tall dude,” Baekhyun chimes in and tries to tuck Kyungsoo under his arm and insert himself between them. “Sorry, my friend is drunk and tired!” Cheerily, he flashes Jongin a bright smile, undeterred as the other continues to lean to the side to keep his eyes on Kyungsoo's face.

“You owe me a song,” Jongin announces, right through Baekhyun. “And I'm hungry.”

“...What.” So was it real or not real? His friends have gone silent now that Jongin has confirmed that they know each other somehow, and doesn't seem to take offense at his words.

“I want to try some food.” As if that clarifies literally anything. No, this was definitely the same pompous asshole. “But not that one,” Jongin adds, jutting his chin toward the bamboo skewer and scrunching his mouth back up in disgust.

“So...go...get some?” Kyungsoo spells out slowly. It finally clicks, and he pushes the skewer into Baekhyun's hands and advances, shoving Jongin back. “You little fucker, you tricked me? What happened? What did you give me?”

His hands are caught, and Jongin holds them against his chest, so Kyungsoo can't just swing out and push him again.

“You are indebted to me,” Jongin declares. “So I demand you bring me food. That I like.”

Kyungsoo kicks him in the shin. It frees his hands and sends Jongin jumping back and yelping while he looks on, unsympathetic. He's put both Chanyeol and Baekhyun through worse, and neither of them have tried to hoodwink him into thinking they were some sort of mythical creature.

Jongin lands on his ass, hands over his injured leg as he glowers up at Kyungsoo. “Ow!”

“You kleptomaniac psycho,” Kyungsoo spits out, although some guilt does start to seep in now that he's hurt this dude _twice_ in less than a day. He pushes Chanyeol off of him, holding a hand out to keep his friends at bay. They wouldn't understand. He needs answers. But he's calm now that the smarmy, bratty attitude is gone, and he explains to his friends quietly that he's fine, he just needs to talk to this guy for a bit.

“Dude…” Baekhyun starts, worry heavy in his voice.

“Don't get arrested,” Chanyeol says.

As if Chanyeol has said the magical word, suddenly they are swarmed. Half a dozen people rush to Jongin, pulling him up to his feet, dusting him off, bowing and apologizing profusely. At least two of them are wearing police uniforms. Unexpectedly, there is no smug look on Jongin's face, but rather, embarrassment as he nods, eyes averted to the ground, and mutters that he's fine.

And then the locals turn to Kyungsoo. To the attacker. There is anger in their faces, and one of the policemen steps forward, swallows and blinks, and pastes on a smile. “Sorry,” he says, waving them away as the others continue to offer much more sincere apologies to Jongin. “You do not do that, please! We eat, we sing. Please go to the festival.”

There's no room for discussion. Any attempt at talking from their group causes the policeman to start anew, insisting that they need to go back to the food stalls. They've formed a human wall between him and Jongin, protecting the other man from the rabid tourists, apparently. Who the fuck…

“What was _that_ all about?” Baekhyun says later, as they make yet another round through the dessert stalls.

Kyungsoo had already made up something about Jongin harassing him earlier in the day. He knows his friends didn't buy it, but the more intriguing story currently is in the locals’ reaction.

“They called him a 'kai,’ did you guys hear that?” Chanyeol asks.

He was busy being talked down to, and definitely did not. “A what?”

Baekhyun snaps his fingers. “Oh yeah!” he says, chewing open mouthed, before lumping the food into a cheek, his voice muffled by the cake clump. “They kept saying, like, 'we are so sorry to all of the kai,’ and then they explained that we were outsiders. Fun stuff.”

“So what is 'the kai’?” Kyungsoo asks the obvious question.

“They treated him like a celebrity,” Chanyeol observes after a shrug. “Maybe it's like a new reality TV show or something, man. I haven't watched TV in a long time. Are there people filming on here?”

He and Baekhyun continue to bicker over what show could be around, what hidden cameras. But Kyungsoo stays quiet. He knows. He knows at least, anyway, that there's no way Jongin was some actor.

The rest of the night just isn’t as enjoyable. His friends have recovered, but Kyungsoo is too lost in his thoughts, too busy scanning faces to see if he spots a familiar conundrum in them. Even as Chanyeol and Baekhyun coo in awe over how many stars they’re able to see in the clear sky, or how they reflect as tiny silver points of light in the sea, or that the island is strangely untouched by the dense, dense fog in every direction, just on the horizon; he just can’t focus on it, can’t appreciate it.

They were debating just sleeping right on the beach, in front of one of the many bonfires, when Kyungsoo has to wander off to find a bathroom. He almost misses him on the way back, only recognizing him by the tiny, messy ponytail, as Jongin curls up by himself in front of a smaller fire. A quick glance around reveals that his new security team is not present, and Kyungsoo decides, fuck it, he’s going for it.

Double checking one last time to confirm that it’s actually him, Kyungsoo reaches out and tugs gently on the end of Jongin’s hair. It startles him, and Jongin jumps, limbs flailing as he spins to see who it is.

His wide eyes narrow once he recognizes Kyungsoo. “Oh,” he says sulkily, “it’s you.”

“It’s me,” Kyungsoo answers, dropping down next to him as Jongin folds his legs back under himself. “The question is: who are _you_?”

“I told you already,” is the pouty reply, muffled into Jongin’s forearms as he crosses them on his knees and rests his face against them. “I’m Jongin.”

“And what’s a ‘kai’?”

There’s a pause, as if Jongin’s surprised that he knows that term, but he recovers after a beat. “I am.”

“Well, _obviously_.”

Huffing a sigh, Jongin shuffles his feet so he can turn a few degrees away from him, sullenly laying his head so he can’t see Kyungsoo out of his periphery anymore.

“Hey,” Kyungsoo says, giving him a weak shove. This is not normal behavior. “What’s the matter, princess?”

“It’s ‘prince,’ you ignorant lander,” Jongin mumbles, and even though he’s not able to see, Kyungsoo can practically feel the pout.

And then Jongin’s words register. “Prince?” Kyungsoo repeats, dumbstruck.

Jongin turns just enough to shoot him a look. “I’m a _male_ ,” he says scathingly. “Otherwise, I’d have to be over there-” He jerks his chin over to a group of women a short distance away from them. “- _mingling_.”

He had just been joking… “You’re—you’re really a prince?” A prince of what?

The only answer he gets is another exasperated sigh before Jongin slumps onto the sand, lying fetal on his side as he stares into the flames. Long seconds go by before he realizes that Jongin’s decided to go with brooding in silence and ignoring his presence.

Kyungsoo kicks some sand over his feet. “Hey! Come on, you wanted to talk earlier, didn’t you?”

“Go away,” Jongin says in a small voice, curling up tighter.

The response gives him pause, and Kyungsoo carefully shuffles closer. “Hey,” he says, much gentler this time, “are you okay?”

There are a few awkward seconds, of Jongin trying to look away from him, and him tilting his head to always stay in frame, before Jongin lets out an annoyed cry and pushes at his thigh. “I’m sad, so either go away, or come lay here with me and make me feel better.”

“What?”

Jongin worms closer, lifting his head to plop it down heavily on Kyungsoo’s thigh and jamming an arm underneath his knee. Getting comfortable, apparently. “That’s better,” he deems.

“I didn’t agree to this,” Kyungsoo says, looking down at the fading, green bruise on Jongin’s jaw. He doesn’t try to push him off though.

“I said go away or comfort me,” Jongin says, apparently back to his asshole self again. “You stayed. You’re comforting me.”

Kyungsoo tugs on the man’s ear, getting a whine for his troubles before flicking it and dropping his hand away. “Is your boyfriend here too? Why isn’t he comforting you?”

“He’s not a Kai,” Jongin explains, still shifting to find his ideal position, but at least he sounds less moody. And seems more willing to talk now. “Where are _your_ boyfriends?”

“They’re not my boyfriends…”

“They did not look like girlfriends.”

Momentarily confused, Kyungsoo is about to flick him in the ear once he gets it, but refrains as Jongin absently rubs at his bruised shin. “They’re men, you asshole, but they’re not my boyfriends. They’re men...who are my friends.”

“So boyfriends,” Jongin states, picking at a hole at the knee of Kyungsoo’s jeans.

“That’s not what that word means,” he sighs, batting the inquisitive fingers away. “Stop that.”

“It makes me feel better.”

“And what,” Kyungsoo asks, “do you need to feel better about?”

Another weary sigh leaves Jongin’s lips. “We have to be here for two more days, and I’m bored.”

Decisions, decisions… Which part of that sentence to break down first. “Okay, so...are you a merman or not?” Kyungsoo decides to go with. Clearing up his sanity should take precedence.

“ _Obviously_.”

“You have legs. It doesn’t seem that obvious right now.”  
Jongin looks down at said legs and wiggles his toes, kicking up sand. “It’s the Silver Ocean festival. We have to.”

“You _have_ to?”

“You ask so many questions,” Jongin says petulantly, snuggling into his thighs and pushing Kyungsoo around to make himself more comfortable. “I am one of the Kai. It is the Silver Ocean festival. So we have to be polite and accept the people’s gratitude.”

Literally, none of this is new information. He tugs at Jongin’s ponytail again, smirking as the merman whines and tries to swat him away. “Look. Okay, how about we pretend I’m a clueless person who has no idea what you’re talking about.”

“A lander,” Jongin supplies.

 _Rude_. “Sure. Yeah.”

“Where do I start?”

“You’re a merman,” Kyungsoo offers. “Let’s start with that. _Are_ you? And how? And how do you have legs? And...and what do you mean you have to be here? And what is a Kai?”

“So this is why my mother always said to leave tourists alone,” Jongin mutters, scowling and pinching at the exposed skin on Kyungsoo’s knee when Kyungsoo shoves his shoulder. “The Kai are the royal family. We were the ones who rescued the people from the Americans—”

“What Americans?”

“-the ones from like a long, long time ago.”

He racks his brain to recall the history of Geomundo off the pamphlet he skimmed over on the ferry. “You mean, the _British_?”

“Sure,” Jongin says. “Now am I telling the story, or are you?”

“Tell it _correctly_.”

“So we saved the people from th-the _British_ , and then the Japanese people came, and we saved them again, and I don’t know the details, but—”

“What do you mean, you don’t know the details? You’re saying ‘we’.”

This time, Jongin leans down and bites at his lower thigh, and Kyungsoo definitely feels the pinpricks of those sharp canines, yelping and smacking him in the ear. “Ow!”

“Stop interrupting!”

“I’m confused!”

Jongin flops around with a loud grunt, so that he’s now facing him. “I meant ‘we’ as in my _family_. Do you not understand words, lander? Do I look two hundred years old to you?”

“You look-” And for the first time, Kyungsoo actually looks at his face, not to memorize details for a police sketch, but just to observe. He’s handsome, as fits his cocky attitude. Smooth skinned and sharp lines, cheeks still holding onto enough baby fat that if he could be judged by _human_ standards, Kyungsoo would guess they’d be around the same age. “How old are you?”

“Twenty.”

So five years younger than him. A little off, he supposes. He clears his throat. “Go on.”

“How old are _you_?”

This jerk and his imperious behavior. “I’m older than you. So be respectful.”

“You are still in my debt. Answer me.”

This was something he had been expecting, and the squeaks coming from Jongin's lips are like music to his ears as he pinches the brat’s arm. “I don't owe you shit, you spoiled kid.”

Ever petulant, Jongin insists, “You owe me a song. We had a deal.”

“Whatever,” he says, “go on with the story. Or I'm leaving.”

That's enough motivation, he supposes, because Jongin continues after an annoyed huff. “ _Anyway_ … What was I even saying? Oh yeah. So my family are the Kai. My mother is the Queen. My sisters are the princesses. I have some brothers. And—”

“How many are there?”

Only a quick peeved look this time before Jongin speaks, “-and then there's me. I'm the youngest of sixteen, and I'm—”

“Let me guess,” Kyungsoo finds himself unable to not interrupt again, “you're the heir to the throne.”

“What?” Jongin actually rolls more to face him directly, eyes sparkling with amusement. “My sister is the heir. Are you crazy?”

“Do you guys go by age, or?”

“My mom is the Queen, did you miss that part? Do you landers only learn things after it's repeated a dozen times?” Jongin anticipates it, and catches his hand when Kyungsoo goes to swat him. “My sister is the heir. Her daughter will be _her_ heir.”

“You're in a matriarchal….society,” Kyungsoo surmises, rolling his eyes when Jongin shrugs and waves him off.

“So every year, we have to come to shore for the festival to receive everyone's gratitude for our protection. And I can't go home until the whole thing is over, because it's _'rude’_ and people will get their feelings hurt,” Jongin finishes, examining Kyungsoo's fingernails closely. From here, the webbing between his fingers is more obvious. He had missed that the last time they ran into each other. Jongin didn't have nails. Instead, the chitin had thickened over his fingertips, to form very short claws of sorts. And he seemed endlessly amused with Kyungsoo's fingers. “Legs are weird.”

“You know what's weird? _Mermen_.”

“There's more water than land, and most of your food comes from the sea,” Jongin retorts pointedly. “We make vastly more sense. Y'all probably couldn't have survived as a species without our pity and intervention.”

“Give me back my hand,” Kyungsoo says. It only now occurs to him that he's allowing this guy too many liberties, but even still, he makes the weakest attempt at freeing himself.

Jongin ignores him. Rather, he tucks the tip of Kyungsoo's index finger into his mouth and nibbles on the edge of the nail, testing the flex.

“Stop that,” Kyungsoo reprimands, finally wrestling his hand away. “What are you, a dog?”

Jongin's eyes light up at the word. “Do you have one? I love dogs!”

“I...do,” Kyungsoo draws out, “but they're at home.”

“'They’? More than one?” The news is enough to cause Jongin to sit up, leaning a hand on one of Kyungsoo's knees and bringing his face in way too close. “Do you have pictures on your phone? I want to see!”

His phone is out and he's already skimming through his gallery before the question of _why_ he is doing so crosses his mind. Impatient as ever, Jongin scoots closer and leans against his shoulder, adjusting the angle of the phone so he can watch as well. It's strangely intimate, but he allows it. Mermen and their weird customs. It's fine. Really, no different from Chanyeol and Baekhyun.

“Kyungsoo!” cries Baekhyun, an instant before someone is pawing at his hair, and two bodies thump to the sand beside him. “Where have you _been_ —”

Speak of the devils…

“It's the actor dude!” Chanyeol gasps, pointing a finger right at Jongin, who mimics biting them and grabs Kyungsoo's phone to search for puppies himself.

“He's not an actor—”

“Why are you two snuggling?”

“We’re not snuggling, we’re-” It definitely _looks_ like they're snuggling right now, with Jongin's head still tucked into Kyungsoo's neck as he scrolls through. “–He...he wanted to see Hoochoo and Meongmool…”

Baekhyun still hasn't picked his jaw back up yet. “So is this a first date? Because you were trying to beat him up earlier. Was that just foreplay?”

“Hyunnie,” Chanyeol interjects, pulling at his shoulder, “they're all over each other by a bonfire. Clearly, they've made up. We're intruding.”

“If you're going to _continue_ intruding,” Jongin barks out, still focused on the screen now that he's located a photo and is enlarging it to get a better look, “then at least be quiet.”

It's Kyungsoo's turn to gape. “Jongin!”

“Is this one Meongmool?” the merman blithely asks, pointing at the black poodle Kyungsoo is holding in the photo.

“Give me that,” he snaps, snatching at his phone, only for Jongin to hold it out of his reach.

Baekhyun is sporting a thousand watt grin. “ _Wowww_ , I'm so happy for you!” He easily dodges Kyungsoo's hand, and jumps to his feet as Kyungsoo pushes Jongin off of himself finally. “We should head back, Yeollie,” he says cheerily, leapfrogging onto Chanyeol's back.

“I'm coming too,” Kyungsoo grunts, finally rescuing his phone from Jongin's grasp.

“I'm not done!” Jongin says, indignant pout at the ready.

His friends have already said goodnight and are walking back to the bridge, deaf to his yelling. Kyungsoo looks back and forth between them and Jongin, suddenly startling out of this haze. “I gotta-” Wait, he doesn't have to excuse himself. He doesn't owe him any explanation. “I'm leaving,” he states breathlessly. “Ju- I- … _Goodnight_.”

Feeling guilty but too rushed to feel his way through it fully, Kyungsoo turns on his heels and runs after his friends. Fleetingly, he recalls the hurt look on Jongin's face before he left.

But if he is who he says he is, then he's a mythical merman prince who gets high on pufferfish and preys on strangers, stealing their belongings and calling it tribute. He's a spoiled brat. Bored and mischievous. He'll find something else to entertain himself with once Kyungsoo is out of sight.

—

Saturday morning, Kyungsoo is up too early. Light has yet to filter through the window, and his two friends are dead to the world. Pushing Chanyeol off, he climbs over the unconscious body, scratching at his own belly as he walks to the bathroom to relieve himself. Maybe it’s the air here, but he’s noticed he gets way more restful sleep than he would back at Seoul.

By the time he’s back in the bedroom, he’s too awake to climb back into bed. Couple that with Chanyeol starfishing across the entire mattress, Kyungsoo sighs and feels around in the dim room for clothes and a cap before making his way outside. They don’t collect samples on the weekend, since that’s when the tourists go out, but they’ll be spending hours compiling data later. Might as well explore and get some fresh air while he can.

He half-expects to see impish eyes and a cocky smirk when he opens the door, and is almost disappointed when no one is there to order him around. Last night comes back to him in waves. The brat kid. The merman. Wild.

There is a place by the dock that serves very decent coffee, and Kyungsoo’s early morning peppiness is rapidly burning off already, so he quickly makes his way down. It is strange. Normally, the fog would be everywhere by now, blanketing the island in an almost eerie cloud, but ever since last night, since the festival started, it’s been kept at bay, surrounding the island in a dense wall.

Maybe there is something in the fog. Like with Jongin. He should ask him about that sometime.

The voices draw his attention away from the small coffee shop. Sitting on the edge of the dock is Jongin, cross-legged and hunching over to look into the water. His hair has been cropped short, and he’s wearing only the pendant around his neck and a pair of shorts this morning. Another familiar pair of eyes glare up at Kyungsoo from the water as he approaches. Sehun stops speaking to raise his eyebrows pointedly, causing Jongin to turn and see what the distraction is.

“Am I interrupting?” Kyungsoo asks.

Jongin is quick to answer: “No.”

There’s a splash, and Kyungsoo barely manages to move his coffee out of the way to avoid it getting a bonus shot of seawater as Sehun disappears under the surface without another word. It doesn’t come as a surprise to Jongin, who only leans down with a sigh, and carefully retrieves a tiny wooden raft up to the dock.

“What is that?”

Jongin is busying himself with tracing his fingers over the wet planks. “Only the Kai can come to land, so the people bring food out on rafts for everyone else to enjoy as well,” he explains, voice neutral.

Vaguely, Kyungsoo remembers the ships sailing in circles last night, with something floating in the middle. Somehow, it didn’t occur to him that everyone in the village knew (and _celebrated_ ) the merpeople’s existence.

“You got a haircut, I see,” Kyungsoo observes.

Jongin still hasn’t looked back up at him. “Yeah.” He runs his fingers through his hair, mussing it up. It’s soft and fluffy, unlike before, where it was matted down by the saltwater and tangled. Something glints in the light, and as he pulls away, Kyungsoo notices that his short claws are a glittery gold to complement the gold reflecting off his skin.

He points at them. “Some sort of ritual?”

That gets him the briefest of confused glances before Jongin looks down at his hands, splaying them out to examine them properly. “No,” he says, “my hosts...they have a little girl. She wanted to give me something pretty.”

“Hosts?”

“The villagers take it as a great honor to host the Kai in their homes during the festival.” He’s never heard the merman so emotionless. It’s jarring.

“So you went and got your hair and nails did.”

No laughter. No acknowledgement even. Just a pout hanging off of Jongin’s lips as he continues to pick at the woodgrain.

He should get up and explore before he is cooped up for the rest of the day. “What’s wrong?”

No answer. Kyungsoo pushes his shoulder and repeats his question.

It almost seemed like Jongin was going to ignore him, until he suddenly purses his lips. “I didn’t get to see Sogeum last night,” he says sullenly.

“You’re serious?” Kyungsoo asks, still trying to catch his eye. “You’re mad because you didn’t get to see my puppy?”

“I’m not mad!”

His _everything_ says otherwise. Amused, Kyungsoo readjusts his limbs and pulls his phone out from his pocket. “And her name is Hoochoo, not Sogeum,” he says, pulling up the most recent video of them learning how to sit.

Try as he might to watch the video with a mask of indifference, Jongin’s eyes still light up as he watches the tiny poodles race back and forth in the short clip. Once it’s ended though, he turns his head the other direction, looking out to the sea haughtily.

Kyungsoo frowns and pushes his shoulder again. “Are you pissy because I left?”

“I–no.”

So yes then. Poor pompous prince. Kyungsoo had assumed he would just wander off to order someone else around, but remembering the look on his face last night before they left...he feels some of the guilt creeping back. “What did you do after we were gone?” he asks.

Jongin sneers, “I ate some bad fish. It was bad.”

“Sounds… _bad_ ,” Kyungsoo mocks. He tries to nudge the other man, but only gets more sulking and sighs loudly. “Do you want me to leave you alone, frowny-pants?”

“No,” Jongin says. He bites his lower lip and finally turns back. “I’ll forgive you if you sing for me.”

“Anyone tell you what an insufferable asshole you can be?”

“...Just you.”

Kyungsoo snorts. “Does that do it for you or something?”

“What does that mean?”

He's definitely flirting. _Why_ is he flirting… Kyungsoo stalls by taking a chug of his coffee, swirling the dark brown liquid around in his cup. He tilts it toward Jongin. “Want some?”

“That looks like octopus ink,” Jongin's lip curls up as he leans over to investigate. “It smells worse.”

“It smells delicious,” counters Kyungsoo. “It doesn't taste that bad either.”

“Why would you drink it if it doesn't taste good?”

Kyungsoo laughs and shrugs. “Survival initially, then addiction, mostly.”

“Is this lander humor?”

“Here,” Kyungsoo offers, “try a sip.”

Jongin scrunches his nose. It's cute. “No, thanks.”

“Try it,” he insists, “and I'll sing for you.”

“You are supposed to sing for me anyway,” Jongin mutters into the paper cup, eyeing the drink suspiciously and tilting it just enough to get a shallow sip. His whole face contorts in disgust. Adorable. He scowls at Kyungsoo's laugh, and hurriedly hands the cup back with an adorable grimace. “Gross. I deserve more than a song for that.”

“What do you want then?”

“You are mine. For the whole day.”

“Slavery isn’t really my style,” Kyungsoo says, rolling his eyes and sticking his tongue out. “I was thinking more like I’d buy you a sandwich or something.”

“Anything I want here, people will bring me for free,” Jongin declares, no trace of bragging in his voice. It sounds arrogant, but seeing how they worshipped him yesterday, Kyungsoo doesn’t doubt the accuracy of that claim.

“Well, I’m not for free. Or up for grabs.” Automatically, his fingers reach out and flick at the pout on Jongin’s face. “Stop that.”

“Why?”

Because it’s really attractive, and he has to keep reminding himself that he was cursing Jongin’s existence just yesterday. “What are you, a child?”

Jongin stretches his legs out, pushing Kyungsoo away with his feet before changing his mind and shuffling closer again to lay his calves across Kyungsoo’s thighs. He fiddles with his pendant, tracing the edges of the hexagon. “Sing,” he commands.

“ _Please_.”

Jongin makes a disgruntled sound. “Sing, _please_ ,” he repeats mockingly.

Kyungsoo makes sure to put on his most smug smile before he obliges. He picks a jauntier tune, an older song that his mom sings sometimes when she’s cooking. Jongin’s eyes light up again, and to Kyungsoo’s surprise, his lips start moving along by the time the chorus hits. It’s still only Kyungsoo who provides the music, but they finish together, matching, goofy smiles on both of their faces. “You know it?”

“The tour boat,” Jongin says, both hands clutching his pendant as he leans forward. “The lady who ran it, she used to have a radio on board and played music a lot.”

“Why didn’t you sing with me then?”

He couldn’t have anticipated the blush, or the downturned, shy eyes. Oh, his _heart_...

“I like how you sing,” is all Jongin says as he fiddles with his necklace.

He succeeds in finally catching Jongin’s eye, only to not know what to do now that he’s got it. His coffee is too cold by now to drink. The silence is only growing as they watch each other. Kyungsoo clears his throat and looks away first, out to the water. “Oh,” he says, remembering, “what was that plant you gave me?”

After a delay, Jongin answers, “Breathing plant.”

“That’s what it’s called?”

“Yes.”

Well. To the point, he supposes. “‘Gillyweed’ would’ve been more fun,” Kyungsoo muses..

“What is that?”

“It’s...an imaginary plant. From a movie. Well, from a _book_ , but like, it was in a movie...technically…”

Jongin chortles and pulls himself closer with his feet so that their shoulders are touching. Out of curiosity, Kyungsoo reaches out and drags the pad of his fingertip against the gold flecks on Jongin’s skin, turning it around to observe, and finding his fingers clean.

At the questioning noise Jongin makes, Kyungsoo flushes and pushes playfully at his knee. “Do you just drape yourself all over everyone like this?” he asks.

“No.”

Unable to come up with a response to such a simple answer, Kyungsoo fidgets in place, until he leans forward and nips at Jongin’s kneecap, prompting a jerk and Jongin pushing his face away with a squeal.

“Hey!”

He smirks, “Payback.”

Jongin makes another whiny noise and rubs at the slight teeth imprint. “It itches,” he grumbles.

“Is it weird,” Kyungsoo asks, “having legs?”

“I don’t know, is it?” Jongin retorts, shuffling somehow even closer and dropping his head onto Kyungsoo’s shoulder, breathing warm air into his neck.

Kyungsoo flicks at his ear. “I’ve always had legs. Legs are normal. If you’re going to be all clingy again, then talk at least.”

“Legs are _so_ not normal,” Jongin says, swatting the hand away, and rubbing at his shins. He’s sporting a small purple bruise there today. “It’s uncomfortable. You can’t go up or down. You just go sideways, and you have to move them opposite of each other, like, perfectly or it doesn’t work, and...it doesn’t make sense.”

Kyungsoo’s in the middle of asking another question when he feels what are most definitely soft lips pressing against his neck, before Jongin’s hand lifts up to cup the other side, and he repeats the movement. It shoots a tingle through his body, and he pulls away just as the third kiss lands. “... _What_ are you doing?” he asks, looking up to find dilating pupils staring back.

“You smell good,” Jongin says, his voice low and husky as his gaze drops to Kyungsoo’s mouth.

He licks over his lips, feeling a thrill run through him as Jongin copies the motion reflexively. “You don’t just kiss people because they smell good.”

“Why not?”

The absurdity of the answer is enough to shake off some of this haze, and Kyungsoo lets out a laugh, “Are you just pure id? Just doing whatever you want?” Thinking back to the cave, it makes sense. Jongin and his friend got high, and got right down to business, nary a care that someone else was present. The life of a mer-prince with no real responsibilities. He snickers again as Jongin nods, and shoves the pair of legs away, standing up to dust himself off.

There’s a noticeable lump in the front of Jongin’s shorts that bobs as he comes up to his feet. Kyungsoo tries to ignore it, but with the memory of the cave too fresh on his mind, he’s getting war flashbacks, and awkwardly retrieves his coffee cup to go dispose of it as a distraction.

“Are you leaving?”

Goddammit, Jongin’s using that little voice again, stopping him in his tracks. Kyungsoo turns around to see an abandoned puppy in man form. Sporting a now-forgotten-but-still-half-mast erection.

“I-...” That’s a great idea, actually. He should go. In fact, he _has_ to go. “I have to go analyze all the data that we’ve logged this week.”

Jongin’s lower lip somehow juts out even more, “Do you not like me?”

“I...I d-...wait, you were just trying to _drown_ me yesterday after stealing my shit.” It’s a weak argument, but he clings to it like a life raft. “And you insulted me, _repeatedly_ , mind you. And pranked me. And like so many things i can’t even think of to list off right now. Why are you turning this on me?”

Jongin’s gaze falls from Kyungsoo’s face to the docks as he tugs on his pendant, rolling it around in his fingers to occupy his hands. He doesn’t answer, and the seconds drag on between them, before Kyungsoo heaves a long sigh.

“Do you want to hang out while I work?”

“Yes.” The answer comes so quickly, he almost gets whiplash. It crosses his mind that he had just gotten tricked, but the smile on Jongin’s face is so earnest, without a trace of smugness, that he just can’t bring himself to believe it.

“Also, I never tried to drown you,” Jongin adds, once they’ve started walking back toward the inn.

“As far as I knew, that was your intention,” Kyungsoo counters, swatting at his arm. “By the way, try to, like, not be weird around my friends. They’re already suspicious, I think.” And bringing Jongin back to the inn probably won’t help. Dammit.

“I’m not weird.”

Oh yes, this is going to go swimmingly.

—

As he had imagined, it does not, in fact, go swimmingly. Dealing with Jongin is a task unto itself, adding Chanyeol to the mix? Adding _Baekhyun_? And then an environment where he has to actually concentrate? It was like throwing gasoline on top of fireworks and lighting it with a blowtorch.

It didn't go well, basically. Still, his stubbornness led to Kyungsoo enduring two hours of everyone's insanity. He tried to salvage the day by moving to the inn’s conference room with Jongin while the other two stayed in the room, but they took such frequent “breaks” to go spy on him, that it was effectively worthless.

So here they are, at Jongin's hosts’ home, where he can finally get...a _little_ bit of peace and quiet. There will be consequences though. In a fit of annoyance, he had countered Baekhyun's 'They’re gonna go fuck, how romantic’ comment with a snide 'Yes, we are!’ and...he suspects the sarcasm didn't quite get across to everyone.

Jongin included.

“This is so boring,” Jongin sighs out as he leans forward to pluck Kyungsoo's glasses off his face.

“I warned you it would be boring,” Kyungsoo reminds him, not even looking away from his laptop screen. He has to squint, but it's still doable.

“The festival would be more entertaining than this.”

“ _So go to the festival_. I am here to work.” Met with silence, Kyungsoo rolls his eyes and finally looks over to see Jongin had put his glasses on, and is idly scratching at his balls.

_Does he even have balls…_

Kyungsoo groans, scrubbing at his tired eyes and pushing the laptop back. It’s time to call it quits if he’s over here wondering if all of Jongin’s anatomy translated over.

(But they didn’t. Proof in the webbing between his fingers, his claws. He was silvery in the water, but gold here, but his skin is smooth and hairless, so…)

Jongin arches into a full body stretch as he yawns loudly. Curiosity lurks, and Kyungsoo… _might have_ glanced at the shorts to see if anything stands out. What _is_ there underneath? Is there just the slit, like before, or would he have like the full twigs and berries?

He can definitely make out some sort of outline. Not enough to tell. But it's not all tucked up in there like it was in the cave.

“I’m hungry,” Jongin announces, obliviously pushing Kyungsoo’s glasses up into his hair as he rolls his head into Kyungsoo’s lap.

Who’d have ever thought spoiled mermen were a step away from cats. Kyungsoo tugs on a lock of hair, prompting a little whiny protest. “Go eat then,” he says, stroking through the soft strands. It’s nice now that it’s clean. He bets it probably smells nice too.

“I can have people come sit here and copy these numbers so we can go to the festival,” suggests Jongin. Said without a trace of bluster, said as fact. And Kyungsoo doesn’t doubt that people would be falling over themselves for the opportunity to make one of the Kai happy either.

“I’m not doing busy work, asshole. I gotta make sure all these numbers are right, and that we’re on track to finish everything on time.”

“Do you ever notice,” Jongin grumbles quietly, “that it’s always you calling me all these crude names?”

As Kyungsoo ponders over the accuracy of that claim, the merman slips his fingers under the back of Kyungsoo’s t-shirt and traces the bare skin above his waistband. He leans in closer, burying his nose into the hem of Kyungsoo’s shirt, breathing deeply.

“It’s part of my charm,” Kyungsoo sneers down at him, aware that he’s now scraping his nails lightly over Jongin’s scalp. “It’s why you’re obsessed with me, isn’t it?”

Jongin stops mid-inhale to pull away, looking up at him with surprised eyes. His lips move, subconsciously trying out arguments across his face before he sits up, licking over his mouth thoughtfully. “I’m not obsessed,” he says finally, looking down at his hands, sounding uncertain. “I like your voice. You’re an interesting person. I find you _interesting_.”

His ego swells at the awkward sincerity. It’s touching and amusing all at once. “So I’m just here to keep you entertained until you can go back in the water?” Kyungsoo asks.

“N-” Jongin bites his lower lip, sucking it into his mouth and chewing on it. He huffs, “You’re doing a poor job of it. Lander.”

Kyungsoo arches a brow in amusement and pushes Jongin off of him, crouching down so their faces are almost touching, staring into wide, startled eyes as he carefully swings a leg over and sits on Jongin’s chest. “Is this better?” he teases. “Is this more entertaining?”

Jongin is looking at him like he’s just blown his damn mind. Like it never occurred to him that legs could split and straddle like this. He’s gulping for air, rendered speechless. A fish out of water.

“And here I thought I was done with boys like you when I graduated high school,” snickers Kyungsoo as he goes to slide back off. His hips are held in place, and Kyungsoo’s brows go back up in question before Jongin’s hands push him down his bare chest, onto something firm as a low moan leaves Jongin’s lips.

The muscles on Jongin’s stomach ripple as he flexes and pulls himself up, rolling Kyungsoo onto his back as he grinds his hips forward, mouth still hanging open, eyes heavy as another moan escapes.

His own body is responding now, and Kyungsoo has to decide if he wants to put a stop to this or—is there any consequence to going forth? He hasn’t gotten off in weeks, he hasn’t had someone else help him do so in… _months_. Jongin’s a horny mythical prince who is going away tomorrow. He himself is leaving this place in a couple of weeks…

“Why-” Jongin struggles to form words as he pulls at Kyungsoo’s shirt, trying to expose as much skin as possible, “-why do you have to cover so much?”

“Why are you trying to take my clothes off?” Kyungsoo taunts, pushing his shirt back over his abdomen and finding a distraught Jongin staring down at him afterward.

“We- I-” Jongin’s chest is pumping as he gasps in air. “You told your friends- I want to-”

The similarities of this to too many of his awkward high school hookups are hilariously striking. “Hmm,” Kyungsoo hums, hooking a finger over Jongin’s waistband to indulge his curiosity. He really isn’t sure what he was expecting. Just as something pops out of the stretchy fabric, Jongin finds purchase on his jeans as well and rips them right down his legs in a rush of cool air. Kyungsoo’s fingers slip off, and Jongin’s waistband snaps back into place, sandwiching a thin cockhead peeking out over the top.

He wants to see more, fascinated and growing more aroused, but Jongin is frozen in place, staring between his legs at Kyungsoo’s erection. He reaches out and runs his clawed fingers gently through the short, coarse hair there, pushing Kyungsoo’s thighs apart to investigate further.

“What-” Jongin dips down as his fingers trail over Kyungsoo’s balls, his eyes widening as he watches the darker skin contract under his touch. He leans in and takes a long whiff, trailing his nose up against the shaft and moaning softly with each exhale.

Kyungsoo catches his jaw as Jongin starts to lick over the skin. They’re not quite _fangs_ , but those are some long canines, and he’s not that desperate for a blowjob just yet. “What’s so weird about me, huh?” he asks, pulling Jongin closer so he can remove the shorts, kicking them off of Jongin’s long legs and leaving them both naked except for his own t-shirt and Jongin’s necklace.

“Everything,” Jongin sighs, burrowing his face back in Kyungsoo’s neck, licking up to his ear in long, wet stripes as he pants hot air against Kyungsoo’s skin.

It looks different than it did back at the cave. Or at least, from what Kyungsoo can recall from the two seconds he spent accidentally looking at it. He’s got a bird’s eye view of Jongin’s cock now though. The very tip is thin, but it swells into a smooth, flared head before tapering down a shaft and thickening again as it reaches the base. No hair. A small bulge underneath, but not quite testicles, from what he can see. Shimmering gold, like the rest of him.

It’s hot to the touch, he discovers as he wraps his hand around it, prompting a gasp as Jongin thrusts into his fist.

“Where- How do I-...I _need to_ -” Jongin blabbers, pulling the hand away and jabbing his dick in between Kyungsoo's thighs impatiently.

“Calm down,” Kyungsoo coos, taking pity on him and parting his thighs enough to sandwich Jongin's cock between them. It's dry, but he keeps his motions shallow enough that it provides some friction even though—

“This isn't enough,” Jongin whines. “How do you—”

“Yeah, that's not happening.” Getting off with a hot, mythical dude is one thing, but bottoming for a brat with a weird dick who barely knows what he's doing sounds like a bad time.

“Why?”

He's got both of their cocks lined up now, gathering Jongin's hand to wrap around his as Kyungsoo strokes. “No lube, for starters,” he says breathlessly.

“I need to be inside you,” Jongin whimpers, rocking his hips forward in sync with their motions.

Kyungsoo's already getting close. “Maybe next time,” he sighs out distractedly, hurriedly tugging his shirt up as he feels himself near the edge.

One hand cupping them to contain the mess, Kyungsoo comes first with a low growl, lifting his hips up as his orgasm rolls through him. He can feel Jongin twitching and gripping around them tighter, and looks down curiously, tempted to move his hand and see. Hot spurts hit his palm, and after the second burst, Kyungsoo drops his hand to his soiled stomach to watch as weaker lines land hot and sticky on his skin. They're glittery too. For whatever reason, this little discovery pleases him.

“Stuck-” Jongin whispers tiredly, eyes locked on the cum still dripping out of his cock to land in a pool on kyungsoo's abdomen, “it's stuck on you.”

“Yeah. Nothing some napkins won't fix though,” Kyungsoo says, nudging him to move so they can clean up.

Instead of doing so, Jongin reaches down and smears the shimmery silver mess into Kyungsoo's skin, making quiet little sounds of approval as he scoots lower down and licks at the white release. He grabs Kyungsoo's hand and laps at the mixed seed there as well while Kyungsoo watches in silence.

That's pretty hot to watch, but Kyungsoo is now sparkly with merman jizz and feeling gross. “What was all that?” he asks, shivering as Jongin licks at the last bit of cum still dribbling out of his softened cock.

“It looks pretty.”

Kyungsoo snorts and pushes his way up. “Why, because it looks like you?”

“Yes.”

“Yeah, well,” scoffs Kyungsoo as he scrubs at the sticky patch of skin, getting nowhere, “now I have to wash this off, thanks.”

“You're welcome.”

That sounded too sincere to be sarcasm. Kyungsoo rolls his eyes and goes off in search of cleaning supplies. The silver hasn’t quite dried, remaining slick and slippery, but is stubbornly difficult to remove, something Jongin takes great pleasure in as he watches him struggle.

—

His original plans were to finish with the data, catch whatever was left of the festival for tonight, and then go to bed. Sunday would have been a day for exploring, and then back to work on Monday morning.

Instead, he's skirting his duties and frolicking on the beach with a beautiful boy, whose behavior has either mellowed to a much more acceptable level, or Kyungsoo is catching feelings and growing way too tolerant of bratty behavior. His friends have been notified, at least of his lack of productivity, but right now, it's just the two of them, feeding each other bits of fish or little pouches of rice as they walk, shoulders touching, through the festival.

“So what does this mean?” Kyungsoo asks, twisting the pendant to catch the light. This was definitely higher quality than the ones being sold by the locals. Older too, by the looks of it. The back has a different symbol: another hexagon with what looks like a keyhole in the center. He hadn't seen that one before.

“It is my family.”

He lets it drop back against Jongin's chest. “You weren't wearing it when I first met you.”

“I wore nothing when I first met you.”

Kyungsoo shoves him. “What's it for? Is it so they can tell you guys apart from us landers? Because it's not that hard to…”

Jongin gives him a sheepish little smile, “I'll show you later.”

 

Afternoon soon fades into night. It hits him, as they're wandering further from the main gathering of people, that he has spent the entire day with Jongin. Again. Their little romp earlier had taken the edge off, but in the dark, in the illusion of privacy, Jongin's curious fingers start to roam again. Mythical savior princes might be able to get away with public indecency, but broke ass graduate students likely won’t.

They stroll through the little village of Deokheung, now nearly a ghost town with the festival in full swing, as Jongin talks about life in the sea. He doesn’t bother with casting illusions that his role is any sort of sacrifice or great difficulty. It isn’t all rainbows and pufferfish, but other than a rather strict hierarchy, the merman is left to his own devices, being young and male, having no important position to fill.

Midway up a hiking trail, they give up, splaying out on the ground to look up at the stars. Kyungsoo decorates Jongin’s newly cropped hair with the large camellia flowers, picking out the pale pink ones to thread above his ears.

“You’d look so pretty with pink hair, I bet,” he murmurs, face hovering above Jongin’s. “Sparkly skin and fairy pink hair.”

“Mm.”

“Although I guess if it got bleached, and you’re leaving tomorrow, it’ll probably get all green in the water.” The words leave his mouth before he can give them much thought. Tomorrow. Huh.

Another noncommittal sound from Jongin. Kyungsoo swats at him, and somehow it instigates a sort of wrestling match, with Jongin pinning him down and grinding against him. Determined as ever, Jongin strips them of their clothes in seconds, gathering Kyungsoo’s legs in one arm and nipping his way down the outside of one thigh, teeth scraping just enough to tingle.

“This is so much harder out of the water,” grumbles Jongin.

“How the hell do you keep things lubed in the water?” Kyungsoo asks as Jongin parts his legs and prods between his cheeks.

“What is lube?”

Kyungsoo laughs loudly, closing his legs up. “A permission slip,” he says, “that you don’t have.”

The distressed look on Jongin’s face is too comical that Kyungsoo _has_ to take pity on him. Shame, really. He’s gotten more comfortable with the idea. But Jongin’s too big for him to be entertaining any sort of irresponsible notions. He’s busily gathering spit to spread over Jongin’s cock when the merman manages to pull his cheeks apart again to investigate, moaning obscenely at the sight of his hole. Kyungsoo clenches, smirking as Jongin’s mouth hangs open, lust heavy in his eyes.

“Why is it so far back?” Jongin pants, finger grazing over the puckered rim.

“As opposed to where?”

Again, Jongin brushes over his balls, cupping and lifting them before tracing his finger back down the seam. “You can have all the backpacks,” he offers, pressing in and moaning as he feels the muscle ring contract again. “Anything you want.”

Kyungsoo snickers as he slots Jongin’s wet cock between his thighs. “All your stolen treasures in exchange for some booty?”

“Huh?”

“It’s a pirate joke—nevermind.” He crosses his legs and props them against one of Jongin’s shoulders. He’s about to instruct, but Jongin’s already started thrusting, his cock sliding smoothly between Kyungsoo’s thighs. They have to constantly reapply, once the saliva starts evaporating and growing tacky, but Jongin seems unbothered, leaning over enough to watch himself poke through between Kyungsoo’s legs as he jerks Kyungsoo off, matching the pace. It’s dry, and his hands are rough, but the pleasure is climbing regardless.

Jongin comes first, shooting all over Kyungsoo’s chest all the way down to his thighs, coating his cock as Jongin’s hand continues to pump over it, stopping just long enough to spread his release over Kyungsoo’s shaft to slick the way.

“Fuck,” Kyungsoo moans, hurriedly sweeping his fingers through the glittery mess and bringing his hand down between his legs, pulling his knees up for better access. “Watch, Jongin,” he instructs, pausing to smear some over his rim before pressing two fingers in carefully. It's a stretch, and the first time he's done this in a while, but he takes in deep breaths and tries to relax away the ache.

Jongin’s hand stills as he obediently watches Kyungsoo finger himself. He doesn’t snap out of it until Kyungsoo plucks his hand away to replace it. “I...I want to do this,” he says huskily, hand rubbing over Kyungsoo’s as he pumps in and out of his hole.

“You have claws,” Kyungsoo answers breathlessly, tugging away on his dick again. “Not happening.”

“You used my release...” he mutters, panting along with Kyungsoo. He’s fully erect again.

His fingers slip out as Kyungsoo deliberates a new idea. Gathering up the rest of the glittery spunk, he spreads it over Jongin’s cock and guides it back to his entrance. “ _Slowly_ ,” he warns.

Jongin’s got Kyungsoo’s feet dangling over his shoulders again as he sinks in, occasionally leaning his head to one side or the other to nip or kiss or lick at Kyungsoo’s legs. He was easy enough to take, with the tapered head opening him up slowly. But he gets a lot thicker toward the base, and Kyungsoo has to remember to gulp in air as he tries to adjust.

The makeshift lube works surprisingly well. It's just intense, with each stroke stretching him back out again, but quickly, the ache fades into a _deep_ , satisfying pleasure. There's a _lot_ of cock in him right now, and even if Jongin doesn't quite know what to do with all of it, it's still working wonders for him.

“Is it different,” he hears himself asking breathlessly, “with a human?”

“Everything is so different with you,” Jongin whimpers out as he moves, shuddering as he sheathes himself back inside of Kyungsoo's body.

It’s an odd choice of words, but Jongin is drunk on lust right now. His thrusts get stronger as they continue to rut, finally knocking the flowers out of his hair. The air is heavy with the thick scent of camellia surrounding them, the slap of skin on skin filling the silence between their breathing; their bodies illuminated by the full moon and the billions of stars overhead as Jongin makes him see stars of his own burst out from behind his eyelids.

Jongin starts biting him. Not enough to puncture the skin, but he leaves red marks all down both of Kyungsoo’s arms, all over his calves, wherever he can reach. His sharp canines sting, but he soothes each bite afterward with soft sucks and licks as he moans against Kyungsoo’s skin.

He’s too gone to care. Each push in rubs right up against his sweet spot, with every pull dragging over it again, making his whole face go numb as pleasure climbs to almost unbearable levels. He can hear himself whimpering, moaning as Jongin brings them both closer to the edge.

Jongin's got his wrists pinned down above his head. Not that Kyungsoo was offering any resistance, but he's not complaining. “This is even better than when you sing,” Jongin whispers in awe, eyes fixated on his.

The statement is so absurd, so random, and then Jongin starts spasming inside him as heat rushes through his walls, and he’s coming, holding onto Jongin’s shoulders as he throws his head back and screams. His body has been so tense building up to this moment that he’s trembling as he comes back down, legs twitching weakly.

Jongin rearranges him so they can lay on their sides with him still tucked inside Kyungsoo’s body. They’re both sweaty and messy, and there are small twigs or pebbles poking uncomfortably, but he can’t bring himself to complain or move.

It’s minutes later, once his breathing has returned to normal, that Kyungsoo finally blurts out, “So what happens when you go back to the water tomorrow?”

Jongin’s mouth opens as he stares, wide eyed and lost. As if he had forgotten that was happening soon.

“I didn’t- I meant like...is there some spell thing that’ll happen and I won’t remember you anymore or something?” Kyungsoo asks, forcing a nonchalant smile after. “To keep your secrets from being revealed or whatever?”

After a long pause, Jongin swallows heavily before answering: “No.”

He waits for more, but gets nothing. That’s it? Just ‘no’?

“Will you go with me?” Jongin asks nervously. “Tomorrow morning, my whole family is going to visit my great grandfather’s sword.”

He shouldn’t. Really, he shouldn't. “Okay.”

They lose track of time, cuddling under the camellia trees, halfway up a beginner hiking trail. Jongin actually doze off on his chest at one point, snoring softly as he nuzzled in closer. He wakes up as he finally slips out, grimacing as he wipes away a line of drool and tries to dust off the dirt that stuck to his dick.

“I thought it would go...back inside you or something,” Kyungsoo observes, pushing himself up onto his elbows to watch.

“Not here,” Jongin says, frustration clear in his voice as he gives up and grabs his shorts, “it just...dangles here. I hate it. It’s inconvenient.”

“Yeah, well, this is how the other half lives,” Kyungsoo retorts, beaming as Jongin hands him his clothes.

It’s not until they’re back in the village that they can see just how disheveled they look. Giggling like a couple of drunks, they attempt to make each other as presentable as they can. Or as presentable as Jongin is willing to, as it seems, with Jongin dragging his fingers over the silver streaks under Kyungsoo’s shirt, his eyes growing hooded and dark.

Kyungsoo swats his hands away. Impulsively, he laces their fingers together instead as they go back to the beach. It’s the biggest night of the festival, but it’s also grown incredibly late. The food stalls have closed down, and most of the people have cleared out with only a few bonfires remaining.

Cautious hands pull him in, wrapping around his waist. Jongin bends down, resting his forehead against Kyungsoo’s and sighing. “Don’t leave.”

He had been thinking of saying goodnight just a second earlier. “It’s late,” Kyungsoo says. “I—”

“No.”

“-I need to shower.” Feeling Jongin shaking his head, he exhales heavily. “You came in me. I’m really gross right now.”

The arms tighten around him. “No,” Jongin begs. “Why are you always leaving?”

He pinches Jongin's side. “ _I'm_ going to sleep. _You_ are turning back into a mermaid prince tomorrow.”

“... _Tomorrow_ is not right now…”

“You're such a brat.”

“I am,” Jongin admits, grabbing his hands. “So stay with me. Your things are still at my hosts’ home.”

“I can get them on my way back to the inn…”

“ _No_. You left _last_ night already.”

Kyungsoo sighs, “What are you wanting from me?”

In place of answering, Jongin makes a disgruntled sound and crowds in closer. It's been magical. It's been fun. Even if he were human, Jongin is still a kid who's just learned that he has to balance between his emotions and what he's willing to do about them. And Kyungsoo is a twenty-five year old grad student on a research trip, and should know better than to mess around with naive boys, mythical or otherwise. Having a clock ticking down the hours of a summer fling is one thing, but throwing feelings into the mix and expecting him to just shake it off by Monday morning, that's asking too much.

Despite more whining, he puts his foot down. The boy is sullen and quiet, shoulders sagging as they stroll back to Jongin's host's home. He tries to cling to Kyungsoo's clothes, digging his claws into the cotton in a last ditched effort to keep him from leaving, but they still part ways. No goodnight kiss. No attempt at one from either party.

—

Sunday morning is merciless. Once again, he's up at daybreak, regardless of how much his body is protesting and demanding more sleep. He had barely made it to bed last night, throwing himself into the shower and scrubbing at the stubborn silver streaks coating his abdomen, down all over his crotch and between his legs. Asshole merman and his glitter cum.

Asshole merman who's probably butthurt and won't even want Kyungsoo at his stupid family function thing. He had insulted and turned down a prince last night, after all.

Maybe it's for the best. He can catch up on data today. They need to make extra copies of all of their paperwork to make sure things don't get derailed again. And then they'll be back out tomorrow, for several more weeks. Monotony is underrated. Monotony is good for one's sanity.

Kyungsoo rolls out of bed, skirts around the Chanyeol/Baekhyun sleep pile, and opens the door to head to the communal bathroom. He nearly leaps out of his skin in shock. On the other side stands Jongin in just his necklace and a new pair of shorts, barefoot once again, holding a paper cup.

“Hi,” Jongin says, eagerly pushing the cup into his hands. Coffee. From the shop by the docks.

“Hi,” Kyungsoo returns, after a pause, feeling touched but suddenly awkward. “I—”

Jongin leans in and sniffs at his neck. And then noses into his hair, resting a hand on his waist. “It's-...I brought your nasty drink.”

“I see that, thank you,” Kyungsoo laughs, shuffling them forward so he can close the door behind him. “Is it time to go already?”

Jongin molds himself around Kyungsoo, arms slipping under his shirt and rubbing up and down his back. He answers with a shake of his head and a grunt.

“Did you just miss me then?” he teases, going still when he feels Jongin nod against him. That sudden wave of happiness, of being pleased just because this new feeling is returned, hits him a little too hard, and he realizes he’s spending too much time reveling in it. Kyungsoo clears his throat and steps back to take a swig of his coffee, instantly scalding his tongue on the hot liquid.

“Are you okay?” Jongin asks in response to his pained hiss.

That wasn’t quite the jolt he had in mind, but it’s what he needed, he supposes. Frantically nodding, Kyungsoo leads them away from the room, batting at Jongin’s arm as he tries to lecture on not drinking gross tasting drinks that are served at cooking temperatures.

 

“So what are we going to? Is there going to be fighting?” he asks, as they make their way along the bridge over to the next island. Jongin had been keeping a possessive hand on his back for most of the walk, until Kyungsoo’s laced it into his own, swinging their arms between them. He’s not sure which is the better option. It all seems rather too public of an intimate gesture, either way, for something that has hours, or possibly just mere minutes, remaining.

“No,” Jongin chuckles, rubbing his thumb over Kyungsoo’s knuckles. Again with these easy, familiar touches. This boy will be the death of him. “The sword is behind a glass case. It’s like, really, really old. My ancestors used it to defend the people of Geomundo. So we have to go see it on the last day to be like, Ah yeah, we did this.’”

There is already a group gathering as they reach the village on the other side. Many are wearing pendants matching the one around Jongin’s neck, and sporting the same pearlescent, gold-toned skin. There are even children, old enough to run and play freely, but held tightly in their mother’s arms. He supposes if he were to have children, and they suddenly had to go underwater for several days, he’d be overprotective with them too.

Jongin’s family stares him down as he’s led through the crowd. People are muttering as they pass, and Kyungsoo whirls as he catches one of the words.

“Someone just called me a ‘land-man,’” he exclaims in a scandalized whisper.

Jongin smiles, pulling him closer. “Sorry,” he says, impish smirk only growing. “If it was Sehun, he’d go for a proper insult, like ‘leg-having ass land bitch.’ My family is more formal.”

“Asshole,” Kyungsoo says, pushing him forward. “Was it an insult?”

“ _‘Asshole’_ is an insult,” reminds Jongin primly. “And you call us mermen, what the hell are we supposed to call you?”

“... _‘Men’_?”

Jongin gives him a pointed look, “Men have fins and breathe underwater.”

Point taken. Jongin drags him to a dense gathering within the group, and bows, elbowing Kyungsoo to do the same as he greets his parents, mother first, then father.

Oh. These would be the rulers, then. Kyungsoo gulps as he comes up from his bow, unsure of what to expect. Before him stands an older couple, hands interlaced. They appear to be in their late sixties, if they were aging gracefully. Not the oldest people in the group. Jongin's mother reaches out and touches Kyungsoo's hand, giving him a perplexed but friendly smile in greeting. She's regal and beautiful, and he can see her features reflected, translated into Jongin's cheekbones and eyes. His nose and jaw resembles his father's, with his mouth being a lovely mix between the two. His fifteen siblings are easy enough to identify, all looking similar, although none still have the youthful glow that Jongin possesses in spades.

“Were you an accident?” Kyungsoo stage-whispers at him later as they're milling about, waiting on someone to return with drinks.

Jongin quirks an eyebrow. “Y-...why?”

“All your siblings are way, way older than you.”

“Oh. Yes.”

“That explains so much,” Kyungsoo snickers as Jongin pouts and demands an explanation. “Not just the youngest, but with such an age gap, no wonder you're so spoiled.”

“I am _not_ ,” Jongin argues petulantly, lower lip jutting out. “I have had to watch my nieces and nephews on numerous occasions.”

“Such a burden.”

Jongin bickers with him some more, until a silence falls over the caravan, and they begin their walk toward the lighthouse, led by his mother. His siblings give Kyungsoo a wide berth. There are locals— _land men_ , Kyungsoo supposes—with them, but apparently, they have a rapport and can mingle among the Kai.

It’s a decent walk. Some of the people who had to carry children are breathless by the time they reach the lighthouse, but no one complains as they line up single file, him behind Jongin and clinging to the waistband of his shorts, and march into the building.

The crowd is really too large for the viewing room, but everyone sacrifices some personal space to ensure that they can all get in. Kyungsoo is tucked tight into Jongin’s front, standing on his tippy toes to sate his curiosity. Among the celadon pottery and old books is the main display: a sword, carved from stone, front and center in its own display case. Around the room are many others, but this one is nearly double their size, with mother-of-pearl accents in the handle.

“Do you see it?” Jongin whispers into his ear.

“You said your great-grandfather used _that_?” he asks, craning his neck to look at Jongin when he confirms. “ _How_?”

There’s pride in Jongin’s voice as he answers, “Very well, clearly.”

He still can’t wrap his head around it, but...it _exists_. One of the locals opens the case, swings the glass up, and backs away with a bow, and then one by one, the Kai step forth, running their hands down the stone blade before exiting.

The walk back is not so solemn. They’re laughing and chattering, excited to be heading back home soon. Jongin is practically skipping, dragging Kyungsoo along with him. Everyone detours for the bridge, and together they walk back to the dock where a boat awaits, the men aboard in their traditional black and white garb, bowing patiently. Jongin pulls him back, and lets everyone else pass them.

Is this goodbye right now? Just like this? That's...embarrassing.

Instead of a curt 'thanks for letting me stick my sparkly dick in you,’ Jongin waves as his family tries to beckon him on board, motioning for them to go on ahead. He draws more than a few curious glances, but eventually, the boat takes off without them.

“Where are they going?” Kyungsoo asks.

Jongin pulls his necklace off and starts messing with the cording. “Just far enough so they can all change back without attracting the tourists.”

“And you?”

“Well, you already know about me, so there wouldn't be much shock value,” he says as he looks around to make sure the coast is clear before stripping out of his shorts. Stark naked in broad daylight, he steps forward and ties the necklace around Kyungsoo, pressing the pendant into his chest.

Kyungsoo looks down at it. “What's this?”

A hand cups his chin, tilting it up, and Jongin's lips touch his in a chaste kiss.

“It’s a gift. Take a breath,” Jongin murmurs, waiting just long enough for Kyungsoo to take in a puzzled inhale before arching back and diving them headfirst into the water.

His eyes squeeze shut instinctively as he clings to Jongin. Once it feels like they've stopped moving, Kyungsoo finally blinks and looks around to see Jongin watching him, his hair swaying along in the current, tanned skin reflecting silver once more.

Jongin connects their lips again, smiling against him before kicking off and propelling them forward, away from the docks and into deeper water.

Kyungsoo taps Jongin's shoulders, hoping he understands that land men can't live off of kisses, no matter how needed and appreciated they are. The panicked motions causes Jongin to slow down, and Kyungsoo lets go of him to gesture at his own face, then up to the surface, eyes wide.

The merman actually has the nerve to laugh, covering his mouth with a hand, webbed fingers spread apart. “I forgot to tell you,” he says, holding Kyungsoo in place when he tries to kick for the surface, “you can breathe again.”

Seeing his choices shrink down, Kyungsoo chances a test breath, waiting for that choking feeling, and inhaling like normal instead. He tries it again, tasting the salt of the sea as Jongin twists a finger around the cording of his necklace, lifting the pendant pointedly.

“This makes it so I can breathe underwater?” Kyungsoo garbles out.

“Whenever you want, instead of just until you resurface like with the breathing plant.”

His fingers trace over the mother-of-pearl design, feeling the smooth surface as Jongin tries to kiss him again.

“You - ass - hole!” Kyungsoo bites out, swatting at him angrily. It's not very effective, with his fingers causing too much drag to do more than graze. “You could've told me that to begin with! And...what am I supposed to do with this?”

“It's a gift,” Jongin pouts at him, swimming backward. It's the first time Kyungsoo can take all of him in again. He's back to his body, skin changing midway to a long, silvery tail. It takes a moment to locate, but Kyungsoo can spy that vertical slit a little bit past his navel.

Panicked, he looks down at his own body, seeing his arms and legs flail about in the water. Just like normal. “A gift,” Kyungsoo copies absently, staring.

“Well, I’ll need it back for next festival,” Jongin adds.

“Next festival?” Maybe Kyungsoo was a parrot in a past life.

“Next year?” Jongin answers, chancing getting closer, and pulling Kyungsoo to him.

“I thought...I thought you were gonna say goodbye,” Kyungsoo says quietly.

“Did you want me too?” And for the first time since last night, Jongin looks unsure again, nervous.

He shakes his head easily. “No.”

Jongin's arms wrap tightly around him before kicking back off, jetting through the water. “Good. Where do you want to go first?”

“I-” They're swimming upside down, and it's disorienting and beautiful and surreal and he's so overwhelmed, he can barely form coherent thoughts. “I don't know?”

“Cave it is then,” Jongin decides, speeding up after he's made a sharp turn, “you still owe me a song.”

“And what happens after that?”

Jongin smirks as he pulls him back in for another kiss. “I gotta show you how we do things down here.”

**Author's Note:**

> Oh Sehun:  
> 
> 
> Also, Geomundo is real. Baekdo is real. The Silver Ocean festival is a real thing, celebrated every year, which I did not discover until I started researching Geomundo to write about, and just wow, talk about a perfect coincidence, huh? I tried to be as accurate with the real details as I could, but I also took a LOT of liberties. Thank you if you've made it this far. I hope you've enjoyed the story. It ended somewhat abruptly, because I had a lot more planned, but this was already getting WAY too long, so there might be a sequel or two coming later. ♥  
> 


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